


Of Wolves and Dragons

by Dithemo



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, Family, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-01 19:42:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 42
Words: 123,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8635702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dithemo/pseuds/Dithemo
Summary: After ending her time with the Faceless Men, Arya can finally go home. However, with the coming war against the White Walkers, Winterfell might not be safe for long. The Stark's best option: to ask the Targaryen princess for assistance when she finally wins the throne. Arya isn't very patient though, so she decides to give the dragon's army a hand in taking King's Landing, and maybe cross a few more names off her list while's she's at it. Actually crossing Daenerys Targaryes while on her mission wasn't really her intention, but the Gods sometimes have strange intentions for their people...





	1. Arya's Return

The sun lit up the snow as it rose, gradually turning the dreary landscape around her into a beautiful field of sparkling white hills. It was the first sun the North had seen in weeks, but recent events had made sure that not a single person could be seen for miles.

 

Arya enjoyed the quiet as much as she did the sun. After living in the city of Braavos for so long, she had gotten used to the daily amounts of sun, and that part of the city she definitely missed, but as she walked on the familiar sensation of snow crushing beneath her boots and the sound of silence that came with the snowy environment made her feel like she was actually finally back.

 

She was coming home.

 

The joy she felt was careful, her heart wasn’t used to these kind of strong feelings anymore, but it was there nonetheless, and it was enough to keep her warm as the cold winter winds beat against her face.

 

The girl stopped for a moment. She had, of course, not been stupid when she left the Frey stronghold. The men there had some decent winter clothing, so she had accepted the grey parka, the pelt trousers and boots a dead man had gracefully left her. Arya smirked to herself, remembering how the Frey soldier had first looked very pleased with himself at scoring the pretty face she was wearing. Seeing his disgusting face go from a dirty smug look to a look of shock when she took her face of and then to a look of pure horror when she stabbed him right underneath his chin was great.

 

As it always was. She lived for these kinds of moments.

 

But she especially still savored the look on Walder Frey’s face. He had been on her list. She had imagined killing him, causing him pain, ending his house, for so long, and it was better than she had ever imagined it could be.

 

Taking a moment to drink and have a few pieces of dried beef, she looked around her. The King’s Road was barely visible through the snow, but at this point she didn’t really need it anymore.

 

Winterfell was close, she could feel it. She imagined she recognized some of the trees from the day she left years ago. It was impossible, of course, Arya knew this, but the flicker of happiness that was in her heart made everything nostalgic to her.

 

She stood staring out at the north, adjusting her scarf again so it covered most of her face. Her grey eyes were focused on the north, and now the sun was fully up she had to shield them with her hand. Her heartbeat sped up when she saw a small, dark, castle-like figure in the distance.

 

 _Could be nothing_ , she told herself, trying to keep a level head. But she immediately started walking again, faster than before, any idea of needing a moment to rest completely forgotten as she trotted on through the snow.

 

_Home… I’m coming home…_

* * *

 

 

Jon Snow watched the sun come up from above the gate. Sleep hadn’t come to him that night. It would have been a normal occurrence before, but after the previous weeks this sleeplessness was strange.

 

With Winterfell taken, fortified and safe again, the walls warm with fire and life again as they used to be, his sister Sansa and his brother Bran back home, he had almost felt at peace.

 

The white walkers were still coming, of course, and his days were spend speaking with the lords of the North to convince them to rally to his cause, which were tiresome conversations, and there was no doubt in his mind that Queen Cersei – the information of Tommen’s demise had come to him a week prior – would not allow him to proclaim himself King of the North for long, … Regardless, though, he had slept like a babe every night since his return to Winterfell.

 

Except this night.

 

He sighed as the snowy landscape in front of him lit up, all remnants of the battle already gone.

 

_Gone, but not forgotten._

He turned away from the sight when he heard the sound of the bell, telling him that it was time for breakfast. His cloak swished as he went down the stairs, greeting his guards with a curt nod. Most of the fighters from the Free Folk had gone back to their settlements near the wall, but some had preferred to stay on as his guards. It pleased him at least as much seeing them guarding the palace as it did seeing the men that were send from the different houses of the North. The North had come together again at last, and it warmed his heart to see them together, the knights from the houses, the wildlings, old grudges set aside -  for now at least.

 

It was enough for Jon though. He felt almost the happiest man alive as he walked into the Great Hall, were Sansa and Bran were already sitting at the grand table, joined by Davos and Tormund, his right hands, and Meera, who had become part of the family after everything she had done for Bran. Ghost looked up from his spot by the fire, and he smiled at the animal as he did at the rest of the room.

 

“You were up early today, King Snow”, Tormund said, greeting him with a sly smile. “Had a lady ya weren’t able t’ stay with in th’ mornin’?”

 

Even Sansa chuckled at the jab, Jon noticed. _How times had changed._

Luckily, after all his time with the wildlings, he had gotten used to these kind of greetings.

 

“Aye”, he answered as he sat down in front of Bran, “her breath smelled as disgusting as you do on a good day. I’ll tell her to visit you some time, if she has it that bad herself maybe she can put up with you too.”

 

The big guy grinned in his beard and went on with his breakfast, as did the rest of the table.

 

Bran, however, looked at his brother curiously.

 

“You didn’t sleep much last night, did you, Jon?” he asked, his dark eyes regarding him knowingly.

 

Jon sighed, but smiled nonetheless. The return of his younger brother had brought him a lot of joy, but at first a whole lot of worries as well. He had told him about his mother, of course, about the history of Ned Stark, of the Children and the White Walkers, and of the three-eyed raven. The young man’s knowledge and abilities had scared him at first, still did to a certain extent, but the love and memory of the young Bran had helped him look through this newfound mystique, and after some time he had gotten to know the man his brother had become.

 

“No I didn’t, little brother”, he said, biting into a big chunk of bread, “and somehow I get the feeling you know why it is that for the first time since I came back to Winterfell this happened.”

 

Sansa looked curiously at the exchange. She too had noticed the change in Bran, of course, but she couldn’t bring herself to care much about it. Her baby brother had come home. The last time she had seen him, he was in a coma, and now he was alive and talking, and gods be damned if she let his newfound abilities dim the happiness she felt when she saw him again.

 

She could see that Jon had struggled at first, but as time went by he too got used to the new Bran, and Sansa could not have been happier.

 

 _Well, almost_ … The loss of her youngest brother Rickon had been hard, despite her knowing that he was lost when he went to Ramsay. She had tried to keep all hope from her heart, but there was still some part of her that kept hoping for the best when it came to her family. And now they were three again, and she couldn’t be happier. The dread she had felt when walking through Winterfell at first, seeing all the banners and belongings of the Flayed Man’s House was washed away instantly when Bran and Meera were brought home by some Wildlings that found them wandering the forest.

 

From then on, Winterfell had gone back to feeling like a home. Despite all her responsibilities now, as the lady Stark, and the Winter that had finally come, she felt stronger than ever before.

 

Her blue eyes were fixed on her brother’s as she had her breakfast. Jon had asked Bran an indirect question, but as the boy did lately he took a long time to answer, almost deliberately taking more time than needed to empty his bowl.

 

Finally, Jon coughed and raised an eyebrow, and, throwing a slight smile at Sansa, Bran slowly made eye contact with Jon again.

 

“You’re right, I have seen something at the Weirwood last night. It was vague, and I’m not entirely sure what it means, but since you felt it too…” He smiled at the end of the sentence, a giddy smile that reminded them of the old Bran.

 

Sansa and Jon looked at one another, both obviously overjoyed at his enthusiasm.

 

“Well what, Bran?” Sansa chuckled, “are you going to tell us, or do you want us to suffer a little longer?”

 

Bran opened his mouth to speak, when he was interrupted by the door to the Great Hall opening.

 

“Your Grace?” The Guard entered hastily, looking upset that he disturbed the Royal family at their breakfast.

 

Jon sighed, pointing at his brother over the table: “We will continue this conversation as soon as this is done.”

 

Bran smiled and nodded. “If you wish.”

 

Jon frowned at the answer, but beckoned the guard in regardless.

 

“Speak then, man! We were having an urgent conversation, which I would like to finish as soon as possible.”

 

The guard turned positively pale. “Y-yes, your Grace, I apologise, but there is a visi-“

 

He was interrupted when a snowy figure burst into the Hall.

 

The figure was almost at the table when a group of guards followed, weapons at the ready, looking a bit distressed at having allowed an unknown, armed person to pass through their defenses and straight to the whole royal family.

 

All but Bran immediately stood up when they noticed what was going on, Jon, Davos and Tormund already drawing their swords and Meera grabbing a knife. Jon went around the table, his sword pointed at the unknown person.

 

When he stood in front of the intruder, sword under their chin, he noticed that this person was smaller than him, but also that they hadn’t moved a muscle.

 

“Who are you”, he said, looking into the intruder’s eyes. The grey eyes were fearless. He had to respect this man, surrounded by ten heavily armed guards, a sword at his neck, and his grey eyes were hard as steel.

 

Or were they?

 

As Jon continued staring into those grey eyes, they seemed to change ever so slightly. The hardness went out of them, replaced by something deeper… A look he recognized from years ago…

 

His hand was shaking as he lowered his sword.

 

“My lord, no”, he heard Davos say behind him, but Jon didn’t care. He knew now, he understood the feeling he and Bran both had had. Something in him still stopped him from moving towards this person, not because he wasn’t sure, but more so because he couldn’t believe it. Of all the impossible things that had happened to him these past years, this was the most impossible one.

 

But when the figure finally moved to take the scarf from her face and he was greeted by a familiar smirk, he knew.

 

“You know, this whole stick _‘em with the pointy end_ thing is fun and all, but it would be nice if you could try not to use it on your own sister.”

 

For the first time in long, her grey eyes shone with tears as her brother hugged her as tight as she had ever been hugged.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Winter Fell

The rest of the Great Hall looked on as their king in the north hugged the stranger that had burst through their doors.

 

The guards began to lower their weapons after a while, as did the people at the table, but everyone was still very alert.

 

_Did I just hear – sister?_

 

Sansa felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. She was staring at the two figures in the middle of the Hall, her hands trembling.

 

_It couldn’t be…_

 

She was frozen in shock, her mind blank as she stared at the two, stared for so long that her eyes glossed over and she couldn’t see anything anymore.

 

She was pulled from her own mind when she felt a hand tug at her sleeve. She looked down to see Bran smiling at her with knowing eyes.

 

“I-is it…? Is it really?” she asked faintly, her eyes focusing on her younger brother know. As he smiled, she went on. “Did you know..?”

 

His smile grew sadder as he turned back to the scene in front of them. “I did, and I didn’t… There were signs that it could be true, but also other signs that showed differently…” He shrugged and looked up at Sansa again. “I just chose to see the signs that meant she was alive… and here she is.”

 

Sansa swallowed harshly. Her throat felt dry, and she felt as if the world was spinning around her.

 

 _What are you doing? This is your_ sister _, who you haven’t seen in years, who you thought was dead, she’s alive, she’s home, and here you are, shaking like a newborn lamb… What’s wrong with you? You are Sansa Stark, you were able to flee King’s Landing, flee Ramsay Bolton and finally take back Winterfell, and you can’t even go talk to your own sister?!_

 

She was trembling immensely now, leaning on the table for support, all the while looking at Jon and… her sister, who were now talking, his hands on her shoulders.

 

 _She seems different_ , Sansa thought. The girl she remembered from years ago was still recognizable – her face still screamed Stark, although she had grown she still had a rather scrawny body and her hair was still a much darker brown than her own auburn hairs – but she seemed entirely different at the same time.

 

Sansa looked at her from afar. It was hard to see under the thick layer of clothes, but she seemed to stand more confidently than she used to, although at the same time less arrogant than she used to be. Her face was the same. She could see her talking to Jon, a big grin on her face as used to be the case when she talked to her older brother, but her eyes looked weary, and she had a look to her that made Sansa wonder what might’ve happened to that younger sister she remembered.

 

Arya, at the same time, was studying the people in the room around her as much as they observing were her – perhaps even more.

 

She was glad to see how quickly her brother recognized her. She had hoped he would, of course, but after all these years she felt like she had changed so much that it had to be visible on the outside as well. With all the faces she’s had, it was hard for Arya to remember what her own looked like back when she was a Stark child…

 

Hugging him felt amazing, and it brought back memories from years back, when they hugged farewell in her room.

 

_When he had given her needle…_

 

The former Faceless Man breathed in her brother’s scent, happy to finally be back in Winterfell. Over Jon’s shoulder, she could see that the people at the table had finally lowered their weapons in realization.

 

There were a few people she didn’t know there, who clearly felt stupid waving their swords around when there was so _obviously_ no imminent danger, _fools…_ But she only regarded them for a moment. Her eyes were quickly drawn to the two others.

 

Bran was looking at them from his chair, a sage smile on his face. _He’s changed too_ , Arya thought, sensing that her brother had become something more, something… deeper.

 

She smiled back at him, her heart filled with joy for seeing her family again, but a frown showed up on her face as she tried to smile at the person next to him.

 

Her sister was staring at her so intently, but even as Arya tried to smile at her, the older girl didn’t even acknowledge her.

 

Her heart skipped a beat for a moment, and she felt like a child again, hated by her older sister because she did everything wrong.

 

She shook of the feeling of sadness quickly though, her eyes hardening.

 

_It doesn’t matter… She can hate me, she has every right to hate me… What have I ever done for her… I was horrible to her when I was a child, I left her to rot with the Lannisters, I wasn’t even here to help her when she was taken by Ramsay Bolton. She has no reason to even look at me with kindness… None of them do…_

She untangled herself from Jon, taking a step back to look him in the eyes. He let go of her reluctantly, and kept his hands on her shoulders as he smiled down on her.

 

“You have grown, little sister. Although, not as much as you’d liked I suppose.”

 

Arya smiled. Of course his first remark had to be about her size. “I suppose not, dear brother, but I guess that’s a Stark trait we have in common, huh?”

 

He grinned, his eyes soft as he looked down on her.

 

“You’re here, Arya… You’re alive, and you’re here…”, he said softly, gripping her shoulders a little tighter. “You’re _home_.”

 

Her smile faltered a bit at that, but Arya quickly masked her discomfort with a grin.

 

“Yeah, I heard in the south that winter was finally coming, so I figured I’d come and see what all the fuss was about.”

 

He huffed at her remark, shaking his head. Jon Snow was no fool. He saw that his remark had bothered her, and he knew the girl in front of him well enough – even after all these years – to see that there were a lot of things she didn’t want to discuss right now. So he let it slide, for now at least, and patted his sister on the back as he turned around to the rest of the table.

 

Sansa was still staring at them as they turned toward the table, and she felt her breath hitch.

 

_Say something, talk to her, welcome her, just say ANYTHING._

 

She was frozen in place, though, until she heard her name softly from right next to her.

 

“ _Sansa, please, this is no time for hesitation_ ”, she glanced down to look at Bran. The concern was clear in his eyes. “ _Despite how confident she looks, she is nervous, and your reaction right now can make or break her future in this house.”_

 

Sansa found that hard to believe, but looked more closely regardless. She locked eyes with her only sister, staring at her from across the table.

 

They were nothing alike in any way, Sansa and Arya, never had been. The tall, beautiful redhead and short, scrawny fighter felt it as much as they did when they were little, even more perhaps. Light blue eyes were locked on steely grey ones. Sansa wanted to look away at first, feeling intimidated by the harsh look in Arya’s eyes, but heeding Bran’s warning she didn’t.

 

And as time went by, and she was able to look deeper into her sister’s eyes, she was able to peel away the hardness to them, and she could see Bran had spoken true.

 

It was when she finally found the nervous flicker in the girl’s eyes that she recognized from when they were children, the look Arya had always given Sansa when she’d done something wrong, that something inside Sansa finally snapped.

 

Sansa choked up as the tears finally came to her. “Arya… I can’t believe it’s you!”

 

The sisters met each other halfway around the table, hugging each other tighter than they ever had.


	3. Restlessness

Arya looked out across the courtyard from her place under the balcony. The snow had finally stopped falling after two weeks, and the men and women of Winterfell were trying to clear as much of it as they could, so they could comfortably go back to their real duties.

 

She sighed and looked down at her gloved hands. Since the snow had started falling heavily the day after she had come back home, all of Winterfell – soldiers, cooks, stableboys, lords and ladies alike – had been cooped up inside. After a few days, even the guards were ordered to leave their posts – the storm had hit them so hard, it simply wasn’t safe to let anyone stay outside anymore.

 

For Arya, it was the most horrible time of her life.

 

 _That’s not true and you know it_ , she thought to herself, looking away from her hands and locking them back on the weapons she wore around her belt.

 

Of course it wasn’t the worst time of her life. These past few years she had truly lived through horrors, compared to that this was just a mild inconvenience.

 

She still felt pretty bad though. Coming home had been great, of course, seeing her siblings again, getting to know their new friends and allies, learning about what had happened to them after that fateful day years ago… But then they started asking her about _her_.

 

Where she had been…

 

What she had done…

 

 _Who_ she had been…

 

She sighed and slunk further back into the shadows. Her hiding spot was perfect for observing everyone around her without being watched herself. The Gods knew this was the first time in weeks she was left alone.

 

Jon and Sansa had it real bad. Pestering her with questions from day one. She was able to deflect most of them the first day, attributing it to her being tired. But after a few days, this excuse didn’t stick anymore, and they started pushing.

 

 _Really_ pushing.

 

In a way she could understand it, of course, and maybe telling them about all that had happened to her would be good for her and them. It was just that she doubted it would be any good – for anyone.

 

After all these years, she had learned that for her, anger was what got her through. A vicious feeling inside of her, the drive to kill everyone that had wronged her, her family and her friends, _that_ was what had kept her alive. She enjoyed killing, she was good at it, and before she got home she had no qualms to admit how many people she had killed. How many people who had wronged her she had – sometimes cruelly – destroyed.

 

But here, in her old home, she no longer felt like the darkness inside her was a good thing. Walking through Winterfell, seeing the places she used to play in as a child, feeling things she hadn’t felt in years… The girl No One who was Arya Stark had longed to go home, but as she came home, it turned out the Arya Stark that had once existed really was no more…

 

She was pulled from her thoughts when she saw horses arrive. Jon, Tormund and Davos had gone out a few days before, to check on Castle Black. Although the snows had stopped then, it had still seemed dangerous for them to go out already, so Arya was glad they came back safe.

 

The ‘King in the North’ had insisted on going, and after a full explanation on what was going on – and a lengthy discussion between Arya and Jon, both too stubborn to let it go – she finally understood why he had to go.

 

The whole situation with the White Walkers had surprised her immensely. She thought she was caught up with everything happening throughout Westeros thanks to the information gathering she was able to do as Cat of the Canals first, and later as any face she took. But the enormous threat from beyond the Wall had never reached her ears, not even when she landed back on the coast of Westeros.

 

She wouldn’t believe it at first, insisting that Jon was simply being stubborn, but after Bran showed her images of the army, she had no doubts in her mind that stopping it had to be the number one priority of everyone in the north, hell, everyone in the world.

 

_Bran…_

Arya moved silently, unnoticed by the people around her as she used the shadows to sneak back inside. Making her way down the halls, she fought the urge to frown, and instead tried to keep her face as emotionless as possible.

 

Her younger brother had been the worst of them all these past weeks. While the others had actively voiced their concerns, and had asked her straight questions, Bran just looked at her knowingly.

 

The change in him was strange, she could only ever remember him as a playful child, but this tall, wise young man was nothing like the child she had known. It was like he knew _everything_ there was to know about her. Everything about what she had done, as well as what she had thought and felt while doing it.

 

It _irked_ her to no extent.

 

Arya had become so good at hiding her feelings, hiding herself from everyone else, and it was a skill she felt was even more useful than her skills with weapons. To have her brother completely break through her carefully built up defenses and seeing the truth she didn’t want anyone to see was… annoying, to say the least.

 

To his credit, though, he hadn’t said anything to Jon and Sansa yet. She figured they knew he had a lot more information about her than they did, but for as far as she could tell – yes, she might have been eavesdropping on one of their most recent conversations – he had only told them that she would ‘tell them when she was ready’.

 

 _So, never then_ , she thought bitterly, continuing down the hall until she came to a stop in front of Sansa’s room.

 

She would’ve gone in straight away, but a few earlier preaches from her older siblings had made her aware of the fact that they didn’t like how she snuck up on them all the time. So she sighed and looked down for a moment.

 

Her boots were relatively clean, considering the snow, the trousers and leather armor she was wearing didn’t look too horrible, her swords were nicely in place and her hair… She touched the mess that was her hair for a moment, trying to comb out the worse of it but giving up quickly.

 

 _It’ll do_ , she thought, before she finally straightened herself and knocked.

 

She waited for at least half a second before she opened the door. Sansa was sitting in front of the fireplace, reading some _obviously_ fascinating letters. Her head immediately whipped to the door, an eyebrow arched as she looked at Arya disapprovingly.

 

“I suppose I should be happy you knocked, at least?”

 

It was a look Arya could remember from when they were little, but different though. She could tell that her sister was mostly joking now, so she gladly joined in.

 

“Hey, anything for the Lady Stark. I would’ve curtsied too, but I figured that would’ve been overkill, right?”

 

She halfgrinned at the taller girl, who met her smile with a small one of her own.

 

“So, where have you been all day, Ar? When you didn’t show up for lunch I figured you were hanging out with the wildl- the free folk again, but they told me later that they hadn’t seen you at all today. Got a new hobby you want to tell me about? Take up embroidering again, perhaps?”

 

She got a full grin out of Arya, then, who shook her head in amusement.

 

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?”, she asked. She knew what Sansa was really trying to ask her, the younger girl had noticed that Sansa’s approach when it came to asking her questions had changed these past few days, and that she was trying to get her to talk by giving offhanded comments that might cause Arya to finally open up to her.

 

Unfortunately, her attempts were far too obvious for the trained liar to be tricked, so the approach was thus far rather unsuccessful.

 

Sansa sighed as she stood up. She had noticed that her new way of asking questions wasn’t going any better than the pushing had gone, but she refused to give up.

 

After all, she still had plenty of time to find out what had happened to her sister. They weren’t going anywhere any time soon.

 

Arya’s smile fell a little as she saw her sighing, so she figured she’d stop with the mind games for a moment and simply answer the question.

 

“No, San, I wasn’t looking for any new hobby or anything else. I was simply enjoying some time on my own for a bit. Did some wandering around the edge of the forest, hung around the courtyard. Which is why I was here, actually, Jon’s back.”

 

Sansa’s eyes lit up immediately. “He’s back? Oh thank the gods, finally. Thank you for letting me know, I’ll go see him right away.”

 

Arya nodded. She knew her sister had been worried too, even more so. “I’ll walk with you. I’m curious what this trip brought up as well.”

 

The sisters quickly walked down the stairs to the Great Hall. As they went in, they could see that Jon and the others were just coming in as well, and that a table was already being set for them. Bran was already sitting at his place at the table, like he had known they were coming all along, and had asked someone to set him down there in advance.

 

 _Which he probably did_ , Arya thought to herself, knowing her younger brother had abilities she couldn’t even imagine.

 

She watched as Sansa immediately went to hug Jon, obviously happy he was home safe. Arya hung back a little though. After the display of affection when she had first come home, she had held back quite a bit, not used to anything like that anymore after years of being on her own.

 

She nodded at Tormund, who was grinning at her from the table, his mouth already stuffed with bread. She liked that guy, from the first moment she’s talked to him she felt like he was someone she could actually be friends with. He was funny, didn’t care if she was a girl, didn’t hold back when she asked him to spar with her, and best of all, he didn’t care for her past.

 

She would’ve liked to go and sit with him, but Jon turned to her now, and she smiled at him too.

 

“So, how was the Wall, brother? Still a big chunk of ice, as it should be?”

 

His smile faltered immediately, and she knew something was wrong from the way even Tormund’s eyes went dark at her question.

 

Sansa came over worriedly, touching Jon’s shoulder when he looked down.

 

“Jon?”

 

The new King in the North looked up, past Sansa towards his younger brother. He could see his own worry reflected in the youngest Stark’s eyes.

 

“No”, Bran said, “the Wall is no longer as it should be… and soon, the Wall will cease to be altogether.”


	4. A Time for Talking

The tension in the room was palpable as the servants walked in and out to clear the table. The four Starks (well, three Starks and Jon) were sitting in the Great Hall, with only Tormund and Davos as company. After the shocking revelation about the Wall, Jon had insisted they talk it all through over dinner, as both him and the rest of his party were famished.

 

It had been a tiring dinner, Arya thought, the dire situation casting a shadow over all of their hearts. Jon and Bran had explained that the Night King was not only gathering his army to march on the Wall, but that he had also engaged some of the Children to help destroy the magic that kept the undead from crossing it.

 

_“But how could you notice something like that? Did you go beyond the Wall? Was a White Walker able to pass?” Sansa had asked, a hint of fear in her eyes._

_Jon shook his head at her questions. “No, neither of those two happened, Sansa…”_

_“Then how, Jon? How can you be so sure? Maybe you’re just imagining this, maybe…”_

_Tormund spoke up at that. “We could tell, Lady Stark, because we’ve lived either on or near the Wall for so long. It’s showing cracks it never did before, there are creases of water seeping down, even though Winter is in full force now… I’m sorry, M’Lady, but there’s no doubt about it. The Wall is falling.”_

Sansa had put her hands together at those words, clasping them tightly, shaking her head. Arya could understand how she felt, they all felt that way. Finally, after years of fear and running, for _all_ of them, they were finally starting to build up a home again, only to.. what? Have it taken away by yet _another_ enemy, more powerful and terrifying even than the last one?

 

It didn’t just scare Arya, it _angered_ her.

 

She hadn’t said anything throughout the entire conversation though, knowing that her anger wouldn’t help them in that moment, she allowed her blood to boil silently as Bran had explained the rest to them.

 

The idea that the Children of the Forest had something to do with the Wall’s defenses falling was just a guess Jon and Tormund had made, but Bran confirmed it to be true.

 

“I’ve seen it, yes. After you all left, I wanted to help, so I searched for you, searched the Wall, and beyond. I saw the Night King again, although this time I’m certain he didn’t see me, and I saw…” his eyes grew sad as he went on. “I saw Leaf, she was one of the Children who helped me. When she helped Meera and I escape, they must’ve kept her alive…. Well, if you could call that living…”

 

“They changed her into a Walker?”

 

Davos had asked him the question, but knew it was a stupid one straight away, as he saw not only Brand but also Jon and Tormund shaking their heads.

 

“No, the White Walkers were created by the Children of the Forest, they were humans they used to keep them safe. They can’t change her into one of them, so they…” Bran took a deep breath. Arya could see this was hard on him. It made her glad that she didn’t have the ability to see, _truly_ see what was done to others. She didn’t know what she’d become if she did.

 

_A  cruel killer, probably… But I already am, so it would make no difference in the end, wouldn’t it? I am what I am…_

She focused again when Bran continued. “They tortured her… First physically, then mentally… It’s… gruesome, to say the least. And now she has no choice but to do their bidding. It’s not her fault, her free will was taken… Her mind is no longer her own.”

 

Jon put his hands on his brother’s shoulders at this moment. He too could see this was hard on the young man.

 

“I’m sorry this happened to your friend, Bran, as you spoke of her, I’m sure she was a great person. I do not blame her for any of this, nor do I blame you. And neither should you.”

 

Bran nodded and gave him a slight smile. Despite all his current wisdom, he had indeed felt a guilt for what was happening, and it felt good that his brother recognized this and was able to put him at ease.

 

At this, Sansa stood up and hugged Bran. She hadn’t noticed before that the boy was blaming himself for all this, and she of course felt remorseful for not noticing this sooner.

 

Arya also nodded at her brother, trying to make her eyes as reassuring as possible, but she didn’t make a move to go over to her siblings. She was trying to control her anger, taking a knife out of her pocket and twirling it around, getting the familiar feeling to help her focus her mind.

 

When things settled down and everyone was back at their places, they started discussing what to do next.

 

Davos and Sansa, never having seen a White Walker, wanted to start by rallying the forces, riding out to every corner of the North to get all the Houses ready for war. Davos was already laying out his plan of order, when he was interrupted by Tormund, who told him the North would never be enough.

 

Arya continued to practice some small knife moves at her spot near the fire, staring into the flames as she heard the discussion go broader behind her.

 

Get the free folk to help.

 

They wouldn’t want to after their latest sacrifices.

 

Explain they’d have to or everyone would die.

 

It wouldn’t be enough.

 

Go as far as the Iron Isles for the Greyjoys help.

 

_Those traitors?!_

 

A foolish discussion, according to Jon, because even with them, and all Northerners and all of the Free Folk it wouldn’t be enough.

 

“Then _what_ would be enough, Jon?” Sansa was getting exasperated with all the back-and-forth that was going on. “Because if not even all the North, the Free Folk and the Iron Born are enough, then what’s the point in even fighting? What would we need to win, to live?”

 

Jon took a deep breath and stood up, pacing over to the fire, wringing his hands behind his back.

 

“The only way to win this, or to even have the slightest  chance to win this war, is if we have the south behind us…”

 

Davos and Tormund stood up, affronted. “What are you..?” “Lord Snow, I sincerely want you to think this through…”

 

Sansa followed suit, also going over to the fireplace, trying to remain calm but hugging herself tightly as she moved toward her sibling.

 

“So I was right, then? We are lost?”

 

“Not necessarily”, Jon said, raising his tired eyes to meet Sansa’s.

 

“Jon, you and I both know that _Queen_ Cersei Lannister will _never_ – **ever** come to our aid. And if you even for a moment think that we will go over to her to beg her to-“

 

“He’s not talking about Cersei.” Arya spoke, for the first time that evening. She stopped fiddling with her knife now, although her gaze was still focused on the fire. “He’s talking about the new queen, the Targaryen Mother of Dragons... Aren’t you, Jon?”

 

Jon looked at his sister in surprise, but nodded. “There’s rumors that she’s landed in Westeros. A raven came to the Wall while we were there, claiming that the Dragon Queen had already started her march toward King’s Landing, taking villages, and that Lords had already vowed allegiance to her. It is said that she marches with three large dragons and an army of wild horseback riders and eunuch soldiers, who fight as no regular men would. It is said that many lords of the south have already vowed allegiance to her… Perhaps if we do the same, she could-“

 

“What, stop her mission and come to our aid? _Why yes, King in the North, I would gladly give up on the Iron throne to come into the snows with you and fight this enemy that is not mine._ Come on Jon, it’s impossible!” Sansa was shouting now, obviously desperate as she treaded her hands through her hair.  “Maybe if by some stroke of luck she actually takes King’s Landing and becomes queen, she could dispatch her men to come help us, but King’s Landing is like a _fortress_! By the time even her impressive army has fought their way into the Red Keep, the Wall will have fallen and the White Walkers will probably have laid waste to the North! Face it, there is no way, we are _all_ doomed!”

 

The room went silent after Sansa’s tirade. The men had no other options in mind, their last hope seemed to have left them. They were all looking down into the flames, and not even Bran could provide them with another insight that might help them.

 

“So that’s it, then?” the looked up as Arya spoke. “You decide it can’t be done, and you give up, just like that?”

 

Arya stood up this time, turning her back to the fire as she addressed them all.

 

“We didn’t _decide_ , Arya. It’s just the way it is. We can try to fight, but there’s simply no way to win.” Jon said, shaking his head.

 

Arya looked at him with steel eyes. “I won’t accept that.”

 

The older men shook their head at her words, and Sansa spoke, her earlier rant still evident in her voice. “Whether you want to accept it or not, it is the way it is. You can’t change that, you can’t change any of this. There is nothing you could possibly do, that could help us win this war!”

 

Arya raised an eyebrow at that, and grinned wryly.

 

“You seem very certain about that, sister. But you don’t know what I can do… What I’ve done up until now…”

 

Sansa was shocked to see the look on her younger sister’s face, the darkness in her eyes. It was like a stranger had suddenly appeared before her.

 

They were all surprised to see the change in her, except Bran, who had seen what his sister had become in his visions, and suddenly felt a sliver of hope at her words.

 

“You have an idea then, Arya?”

 

Her sad grin became more like a smile when she saw the enthusiasm in his face.

 

“I do, yes…” she looked up to see Jon’s questioning eyes. She met them, her hands behind her back, straightening her shoulders. “I can be of service in part of your plan, Jon. If you can get the North to fight, _all_ of it, I can get the right queen on the throne.”

 

She could see that Jon wanted to believe her, but the disbelief on the others’ eyes was still clear to her.

 

_This was it… No more secrets now._

 

“I’m sorry, young lady Stark,” Davos carefully started, “but I don’t see how you could get Daenerys Targaryen on the throne, or anyone else for that matter. You’re just a girl, a noble one, of course, with maybe a bit of a knack for the sword, but that’s all, and I don’t-“

 

“Ser Davos”, Arya interrupted with a sigh, trying to stop an eyeroll that was threatening to add to his vision of her being nothing more than a girl. “I understand your reservations, truly, I do… But there is something you need to know…” she looked at her siblings, focusing especially on Sansa’s blue eyes as she continued, “you all need to know about me… About what I’ve done and who I’ve become…”

 

Ignoring the fear she could see in Sansa’s eyes, she turned away, focusing on the silent support in Bran’s.

 

“After I fled the Red Keep when they attacked us, I didn’t immediately leave King’s Landing… I stayed there, learning the ins and outs of the city, the secret passageways… In that respect,  I believe someone like me would be very useful to the new queen.”

 

“Yes, but that doesn’t-“ Davos was interrupted by both Sansa and Jon, this time, who motioned Arya to continue.

 

“When I watched our father’s execution,” a gasp from Sansa, as she hadn’t known they had both lived through this horror, “I was taken with a group of people who were headed to Castle Black, trying to get North… But on the way there… things… happened, I was taken prisoner several times, forced to hide, to serve, forced to pretend to be anyone I wasn’t… Until, finally, after I saw Robb’s murder at the Twins-“

 

“No” “Good Gods!” Sansa had her hand in front of her mouth now in shock. Arya was trying to keep the story as concise as possible, to not let them know too much about the horrors she had lived through, but the glimpses she was showing were obviously already too hard on her siblings.

 

“Don’t worry, it was a long time ago by now, and I was able to… set things right, afterwards.” She saw realization dawn in Jon’s eyes after that statement – he had heard about the deaths of the Frey bloodline from Lord Tully, who had been surprised to have gotten so lucky – but he didn’t press, so she continued her story.

 

“Anyways, after seeing this I was done, I didn’t see any reason to stay here, so I sought a way to get to Braavos, and I did… And there, I found a master, or rather, a place where I could learn to fight… To kill every single person who had ever wronged us.”

 

Her eyes went dark again, but this time nobody reacted visible to the change.

 

“I trained there, in the House of White and Black, I became no one, not Arya Stark or any other person I’d ever pretended to be… I became a Faceless Man.”

 

The others in the room were now visibly perturbed by this, although not all in the same way.

 

Davos was shocked at the revelation, but he had hear about the Faceless Men, and understood what an asset she could be to the cause. So he immediately was on board with this idea.

 

“So you truly do have a plan, then? Of course, if you know King’s Landing, and can disguise yourself to become someone else, you could help the Dragon Queen’s army in some way…” His enthusiasm was carried over to Tormund, who hadn’t heard of these Faceless Men yet but immediately understood that they were killers who should be feared.

 

“We stand a chance then! If we immediately start rallying the free folk here, and the northern lords and fighters, and if the girl travels south and takes care of the queen-“

 

“Arya is not going _anywhere_ ”, Sansa interrupted Tormund, a crack audible in her voice. She turned to her younger sister. “She just got home, and she’s just a girl, and she’s not going anywhere!”

 

Arya looked at her, steel resolve visible, but she could feel a small pang in her heart when she saw the glint of tears in her sister’s eyes.

 

“But I’m not, Sansa. Not anymore. The girl I used to be, Arya Horseface, or Underfoot, or whoever I used to be when you last saw me is long gone. After all these years, of pretending, of being different people, I don’t know who I truly am anymore. All I know is that I’m Arya Stark of Winterfell, and that I would do _anything_ to keep our family safe.” She looked down sadly for a moment, but only for a short moment, her eyes brimming with confidence when she looked up again.

 

“The North remembers, and I definitely remember the North. I want to keep our home safe, as much as I want to keep you all safe. So as Tormund said: I will go South, and help the Dragon Queen in whatever way I can, so that, some day, maybe, future generations of Starks will live in Winterfell, regardless of me being here or not.”

 

Arya could see Jon nod and felt reassured as he put his hand on her shoulder.

 

“So be it, little sister.” He smiled sadly. “I guess I always knew you’d turn out to be a decent fighter. So the Freys…”

 

Arya nodded, and no more needed to be said. Jon hugged her tight. “Go then, may the Gods be with you.”

 

Her heart swelled at his words, and she turned to say goodbye to the others. Time was of the essence, so she had already decided she would leave straight away.

 

Bran hugged her tight. No words needed to be said between them, he had seen her past and was happy that she could finally see a future for herself too.

 

Sansa was harder. When Arya turned to her, she could see the taller girl was still shaking her head, the tears now falling down. Arya felt a lump in her throat when she went in to hug her.

 

“Please, Sansa, I need you to understand… I wish I could stay here, with you, truly… But this isn’t my place… I don’t belong here anymore, not really…”

 

She could feel Sansa sigh into her shoulder, a shuddering sigh that almost sounded like a sob. But then she also felt her nod.

 

“I understand, Ar… I think I knew the moment you came back that you had changed, that something about you made you feel like this wasn’t your home anymore… I understand that this is what you need to know, and  I wish you the best of luck on your mission. I also want you to know, though, that this _is_ your home, no matter who or what you’ve become, and that I expect you to come back here, to us _,_ to _me_ , alive and well, as soon as you can. And when this war is over, we will finally be a family again.”

 

Arya could feel tears welling in her eyes as she shook her head slightly. “Sansa, I-“

 

“Promise me, sister, _please_ ”

 

The younger Stark sighed shakily. “Very well, Sansa, I promise.” She released her sister to look her in the eyes. “When all is done, when the new queen takes the throne and the White Walkers have been defeated, I’ll come back here. I promise.”

 

Arya wiped away her sister’s tears with her calloused hand, and she gently took her neck to pull the taller girl in as she placed a kiss on her forehead.

 

Then she released her, stepped back and gave a curt nod to the others in the room.

 

“I _will_ be back, with Queen Daenerys. I promise.”

 

She looked each person in the eye once more, receiving a nod from all of them, and then she left the room, getting more determined with each step she took.

 

_Cersei Lannister. Gregor Clegane. Meryn Trant. I’m coming for you…_


	5. Battles Won

A tense silence hung in the air as the sun went down. The brightly colored evening sky lit up the fields, providing a beautiful end of the day.

 

Daenerys Targaryen stood in front of her tent, staring at the amazing sky to her right for a moment, before focusing her gaze on the battlefield in front of her again. Her tent was positioned on a hill with the others of the camp, a few miles from where the battle was actually going on.

 

They had known the Queen’s – or better said, the _Lannisters’_ – army was marching on them for a few days now, and yesterday word had finally reached them that they were only miles away.

 

The battle had begun at sunrise that morning. It was the first true battle they had had since they had arrived in Westeros – the other local forces that had tried to stop them were no match for her army of well-trained Unsullied and Dothraki – and she had been nervous to see how her troops would fare against these experienced soldiers.

 

Daenerys sighed, trying to keep herself calm while she looked across the battlefield, her fingers fiddling with one of the bracelets she was wearing.

 

Things hadn’t looked too great as the battle was raging this morning; her men had fought well, but the Lannister army was well-equipped, with better quality armor and weapons than any other enemy they had ever faced.

 

She had been getting more and more worried all morning, and even the beginning of the afternoon.

 

Then, suddenly, things changed. The young queen could even see it from her vantage point in the distance: her men were pushing back the forces much more easily than before, cutting through them like it was nothing, it seemed. As if the enemy had lost focus or confidence for some reason.

 

“Your Grace.”

 

She hadn’t heard Missandei approach her, too lost in thoughts, so she was startled for a moment, turning around to acknowledge the girl.

 

“Missandei. What news? Has Grey Worm returned yet?”

 

Daenerys could see the young translator’s face flash with worry at her words. “No, not yet, your Grace. Some other men have returned, though. They say most of the army has either been killed or fled the scene. The men I spoke haven’t seen Grey Worm since this morning,but…” a deep breath before she continued, “But they do believe that he should have survived. Another Unsullied I spoke thought that maybe he would have gone to check out what had happened to the enemy. From what he’d seen, something happened to the enemy which caused them to lose formation.”

 

The Queen nodded at that. “I had noticed something like that as well…” She looked up, locking eyes with Missandei. “I’m sure Grey Worm will be alright. He would indeed be the kind of person to investigate why an enemy would suddenly change their fighting tactics. He should be back as soon as he finds out.”

 

Missandei nodded, giving her queen a grateful smile. “Indeed, your Grace. Since it would seem that the battle has been won, perhaps you should eat now. I know you were too nervous and that you haven’t eaten anything since yesterday, but I do believe you will need your strength when you finally take the throne as the rightful queen of the Andals.”

 

Daenerys agreed, and started to let herself be led into her tent, when she heard a voice coming from below.

 

“Oh, well, although I do like a good victorious feeling, I do believe it might be a bit too soon to think about sitting on that Iron monstrosity of a throne. One battle does not win the war, Missandei, although I have to admit, if every battle goes as well as this one, I like our chances.”

 

Tyrion followed her into the tent, his token goblet of wine in his hand. The queen could see the translator’s face go red as they all sat down.

 

“I know this, lord Tyrion. You have told us all many times that King’s Landing is a nearly impenetrable fortress, that even if they had no guards it would still take us days to get through the walls, or even weeks, and that even if we do get through King’s Landing, getting into the Red Keep would be even harder. You have told this, I have remembered. However-“ she was obviously trying to calm herself down again, especially now that she could see how smugly he was looking at her, “especially since the road is still long, it is very important that her Grace stays strong. So she should eat now, and regain her strength.”

 

She nodded at the end of her speech, and both Tyrion and Daenerys had to hide a smile. They both enjoyed it when the girl was so passionate about her queen.

 

“You are absolutely right, Missandei”, Tyrion said, “I apologise, I did not mean to say you didn’t understand what we are trying to accomplish here. On top of that, you were especially right about the food: the stress we’ve been having before this battle has even caused me to lose my appetite for wine, if you can imagine.”

 

Missandei smiled at that, as did Daenerys.

 

“Then eat we shall”, the queen said, motioning for the servants who were standing at the entrance of the tent to come in. She watched as a few young women brought in the food, and couldn’t believe how hungry she was all of the sudden.

 

Any other comments were lost on them as they dug in, and it was immediately obvious that Tyrion intended to make up his lesser consumption of wine today, when he flagged the wine bearing girl to make sure his cup remained full all evening.

 

When the first hunger passed, and Tyrion had had a few cups of wine, he started talking again.

 

“So, your Grace, what did you think of your first real battle in Westeros? Was it everything you had dreamed it to be?”

 

Daenerys knew he was mocking her, but she knew he meant no harm, and that his seemingly simple question hid a much deeper one.

 

“It was an odd battle, was it not? I had of course hoped that our men would be able to defeat the Lanni- the current queen’s army easily-“, she quickly corrected, knowing that calling it the Lannister army would put her adviser in a tough spot, “but I hadn’t imagined it would truly happen, especially after this morning.”

 

Tyrion nodded. “I agree. The morning went more like I had expected, I’m sad to admit. I did believe that your army would win, your Grace, no doubt about that, but I knew the equipment and the discipline of the royal army, as well as their experience in these kind of battles, would make the battle a very hard one, regardless of how many more men we might have had.”

 

She nodded in response. “You had warned us of this, and at the beginning of the battle I could see what you meant. I did have confidence, of course, but it looked like it would be rough. And then suddenly-“

 

“The battlefield changed”, Tyrion responded, glad the queen had seen it as well. He emptied his cup again, and immediately the girl stepped in to fill it up again. The dwarf was mildly impressed at this action and continued. “It was something I haven’t seen before. Of course, I haven’t been in _that_ many battles, but still… The only reason I could imagine would be a tactical retreat, but that would have meant that they would have afterwards trapped the rest of our men, which they didn’t.”

 

Daenerys felt her heart stop. “So, you believe it might have been their plan? Because if that is the case, we shouldn’t be sitting around waiting for them to ambush us!” She stood up now, preparing to go outside and rally her troops once more. “We must be prepared for them, double the guards around the camp, have everyone ready for the next blow. We-“

 

“That won’t be necessary, my queen.” She whipped around and saw Grey Worm enter the tent, looking tired and dirty, but not too hurt – visibly at least.

 

She sat down again as she saw Missandei stand up and offer the soldier her seat, immediately getting him a plate of food.

 

He nodded at her in thanks, holding her eyes for a moment, before he turned back to his queen, who was patiently waiting for the soldier to explain himself.

 

“Tell me, Grey Worm, what has happened on the battlefield today?” Daenerys looked composed, but she was shaking internally, still worried that her ‘win’ might have been a fluke, and that they were still at risk of being attacked.

 

“The battle was hard, at first. The enemy’s army was strong, well-trained, their armor hard to penetrate. We fought hard, they fought back harder, never breaking formation, never losing focus. And then something happened…” He looked troubled, as though he remembered the moment he had noticed something was wrong. “There was no sound of a horn, no shouts for retreat, more like… Rumors being passed around, almost like whispers. I was in the first line when it first happened, the men we were fighting were no longer entirely focused on the fight, they were looking around, trying to signal their friends, asking them questions…”

 

“About what?” Tyrion asked, curious. The girl had filled his wine cup again, but he ignored it this time, completely engulfed in Grey Worm’s story.

 

“I .. I was not sure. Their words were hard to make out, they spoke too fast. But the longer it went on, the easier it became to cut through them, until we finally made it out of the battle, and saw that there were no others waiting behind them, but that they had all fled. We could still see some running ahead of us, so we followed them..”

 

“You _followed_ them? What if it had been a trap?” Missandei had spoken now. She knew she wasn’t supposed to, she did not have much to add to these kinds of conversations, but Grey Worm’s revelation had shocked her.

 

He looked surprised. “It was no trap. I knew this, I recognized the signs. There was no reason for worry, Missandei, the entire battlefield showed that they had no other plan than to defeat us right there. Until they ran, that is.”

 

The young translator looked a bit more at easy at his words, but Daenerys and Tyrion felt more puzzled by the second.

 

“Why, then, Grey Worm? Tell me, what was the reason for their sudden change of heart? Did you find out?”

 

He looked his queen in the eyes and nodded. “We found out when we reached their camp. It was empty, the tents from the day before still up, but not a soldier around. We made sure of that, looked in every tent to find it empty, until we made it to the center of the camp. We found them there, all of them, left behind by their men…”

 

He shook his head, like he was trying to wrap his head around something. The others didn’t understand it yet. Tyrion broke the silence first.

 

“Who? Now would be a great time to speak in clear language, Grey Worm, because you are not making any sense.”

 

The soldier looked up again. “Their superiors. Their officers, generals or whatever you like to call them, the men with the fancy armors and weapons. We had not seen them on the battlefield, and we thought that they would only come at the end, as you said Tyrion. But when they must have been supposed to join the soldiers, they didn’t, and it was because they were already dead.”

 

“Dead?” “All of them, dead?” Tyrion and Daenerys reacted in shock. “How do you mean, that’s impossible!”

 

Grey Worm nodded once. “That is what has happened. Their throats had all been slit, they laid in a pool of their own blood. Some of them hadn’t even drawn their swords yet, like it had all gone so fast, they didn’t even have time to react…”

 

They sat in silence for a moment, allowing the information to sink in. After a while, Daenerys looked at Tyrion.

 

The dwarf shrugged at her unspoken question. “Well, I suppose that explains why the men were so perturbed. They must have expected their officers to join them, went to look for them when they didn’t, and the news of their demise then spread like wildfire to the troops, causing a panic.”

 

The Dragon Queen nodded. That did sound somewhat logical, but it didn’t answer her main question.

 

“But who killed them? If it wasn’t any of our men-“ she looked at Grey Worm, to see him shake his head as a sign that this wasn’t the case, “then who?”

 

Tyrion shrugged again, this time chugging the full cup of wine in one go, immediately being serviced to another cup. “Your guess is as good as mine, your Grace. Perhaps you have a secret admirer in the enemy camp, perhaps the gods favor you, perhaps it was a collective suicide because they knew they could never defeat you, _regardless_ -“ he pushed on immediately, seeing that his sarcasm was lost on Grey Worm and that he was about to specify that suicide would have been impossible, “this calls for a celebration! You have won your first battle successfully, your Grace! King’s Landing is only days away, and with this loss the  odds are that they won’t try and stop us on the way there anymore, but will wait for us to attack them and break our teeth on the castle walls. So, let’s rejoice, and drink the night away!”

 

He emphasized his point by immediately emptying his cup again, trying to get the others to join with handmotions as he drank.

 

The other three, of course, didn’t move, but simply looked at one another.

 

“So, you are certain that we will not be attacked anymore?”

 

Grey Worm nodded. “I am, my Queen. I believe the lord Tyrion is right – except for the drinking. The battle is won, we can be confident in our victory, and should now focus on finding ways to take the Royal City.”

 

“What? No, that’s not-“ Tyrion tried to intervene, but Daenerys cleared her throat straight away.

 

“Indeed, we should start making preparations now.” A disgruntled sound from Tyrion caused her to raise an eyebrow. “What, my adviser? It is as you said: winning one battle does not win a war. We need to have a plan ready if we want to take King’s Landing, and what better time to make a plan than with the last battle fresh in our minds?”

 

She smiled sweetly at him, glad she could use his words against him now, and found a certain satisfaction in seeing his desperation at losing a chance to drink the night away, which he hadn’t been able to do in weeks.

 

At last, he sighed. “Fine. Fine, if that’s what her Grace wants, we’ll start making our plans now. But, just so you know, I intend to continue drinking all during this plan making.”

 

She chuckled at that, seeing the wine bearer immediately coming forwards to fill his cup again, seeing  the girl’s grey eyes even show a flicker of amusement at the discussion.

 

Daenerys motioned to the other servants to clear the table, and asked Missandei to get the plans Tyrion had already drawn out of King’s Landing.

 

“So, how should we start…” she began.

 

The discussion of the plans took all evening, every good idea, every point in the castle walls that one thought could be weak, was shot down by Tyrion, who continued to explain that there were either too many guards, or that they couldn’t get enough people in unseen to be able to open any gates.  
  
They continued arguing, but as the night grew longer, the amount of wine Tyrion consumed became larger as well, until the others could no longer make any sense of what he was saying.

 

It was then that Queen Daenerys took some final decisions and ended the meeting, sending them all back to their respective tents.

 

She watched from the entrance to her tent as Grey Worm and Missandei helped the hobbling dwarf to his own tent. A strange feeling crept over her at that time. Despite his current condition, Tyrion was a great asset to this endeavor, and if he said taking King’s Landing was nearly impossible, she did believe him, and the thought of failing scared her greatly.

 

At the same time, though, the easy win that they made her more confident, made her feel like the gods were on her side.

 

_Or if not the gods, someone definitely is…_

 

_Besides_ , she thought as she moved towards the place where her dragons were being kept, _she still had her dragons. Even if the gods failed her, they would always have her back._

 

Comforted by this though she made her way down to great her children, vaguely noticing the grey-eyed wine bearer passing by.

 

Daenerys got a strange sensation from those eyes, and turned around for a moment to see where the girl was going. But as she turned, the girl had already disappeared into the darkness, and the queen thought no more of it while she tended to her dragons.

 

In the darkness, though, the girl did think about the queen. About her lilac eyes, her slight build, her silver hair…

 

_Her determination. Obviously, her strongest point was her determination._

 

That was what made the queen interesting. Nothing else.

 

She looked for the bag she had left in the woods earlier, dropping the servant’s clothes she was wearing as well as the pretty girl’s face.

 

Arya immediately put on her own clothes and gathered her weapons, finding her determination as well.

 

_Time to fix those plans…_


	6. Scouting ahead

Arya let out a long, silent sigh as she watched the same guard standing stock still on the wall. A sight she had been watching for the past hours, and one she was growing _very_ tired of.

She moved her head left and right for the umpteenth time that night, trying to get the kinks out of one part of her body at least. Her vantage point on top of the roof of one the sentinels wasn’t the worst place she’d spent many hours at over the course of the past days, but sitting still had simply never been her strong suit.

A movement caught her eye. Two other guards moved up to join the one she was watching. One of the new ones stayed, the other two continued walking the outer wall.

 

_Fourth time passing by, second switch of the hour. Same thing every hour. Like clockwork._

 

The Stark girl scribbled her findings down on a piece of parchment.

 

_This is the one_ , she thought, adding the information to the other schedules she had already gathered. _Not too many guards, a tight schedule that leaves plenty of openings…_

 

A good thing she still had time to scout out this place. It wasn’t the first one she had thought about, she had observed the entrances to King’s Landing she would have preferred first, but all of those had too many risks involved, too many chances of her plans failing.

 

So, as a last resort on her last night of scouting – whispers in the streets had told her that “the Dragon Bitch’s army was only a day away” – she decided to check out this side entrance to the city, the one the royal merchants often used. It wasn’t a gate the new queen’s entire army could ever fit through, but it didn’t have to.  

 

Arya had it all figured out: she would take out the guards, the ones patrolling as well as the ones she knew would be next, a small troop of Unsullied would enter silently, go by the other watchposts to kill all the other guards until they reached the main gate, where the rest of the army would be waiting.

 

_Quick, efficient… perfect._

 

The killer was proud of herself, obviously. She might not have too much fist-hand experience with war, but sneaking around and killing unnoticed were definitely her things.

 

At this point, there was only one problem with the plan she still needed to solve: how to get Daenerys Targaryen and her men to execute it…

 

* * *

 

It had been another long day of horseback riding when the queen finally signaled them to stop. She had pressed them on today, not allowing anyone much time to rest at all, including herself.

None of her men minded though. Ever since the last battle, they had all been restless, especially since no one else had attacked them. Every single member of the group, including even Tyrion and Missandei, had been on edge for days.

The final battle couldn’t come soon enough.

She was glad that she could finally signal them to stop for the night. She was especially glad that they had gotten as far as she wanted to: with King’s Landing close by.

Close enough to attack at dawn.

While the others put up their tents, a lot of questioning looks were sent her way. She knew why: although they had at long last arrived at the Royal City, and although her throne was in her reach, she hadn’t instructed them to prepare for battle yet.

Their anxiousness was understandable, she felt it herself. But even though Grey Worm, Tyrion and herself had spent the previous days – and nights – discussing the best approach to taking the city, not a single plan had really stuck.

She had hoped that her scouts would have come back by now, giving her something, _anything_ that could help them, but so far 2 groups of scouts had come back already who all had good intel – like that the Lannister army wouldn’t tire themselves with coming beyond the walls of the city – but nothing that would help them in the attack.

So now all she could do was wait, and hope that the final group of scouts would give her an in. If they didn’t, though, …”

“I fear we’ll just have to wing it, your Grace.”

Tyrion approached her as she was staring at King’s Landing, obviously very much aware of what she was thinking about.

“We will not _wing_ it, Tyrion.” Daenerys knew she sounded like a mother scolding her child, but she could care less right now. She was not in the mood for jokes. “If we are lucky, my scouts will provide useful information.”

“And if we aren’t?” the dwarf asked,  trying to keep his voice light, although the queen could hear the anxiousness sipping through.

She straightened her shoulders. “Then we will make a plan, a good one, although perhaps not the perfect one, and we will execute it.” She looked her adviser in the eye. “And we will win.”

It sounded confident, even in her own ears, and she wished she could believe herself.

Tyrion, to his credit, didn’t try to contest her words and simply nodded. “Very well then. Might I suggest retiring to your tent then, and creating this plan?”

She agreed, and signaled one of the men nearby to go and get Grey Worm, as well as Missandei.

The thought of those two brought a small smile to the queen’s face. Ever since she got so worried during the last battle, Missandei had insisted on riding with Grey Worm the rest of the road.

Daenerys missed her friend, of course, she even slightly envied the love the girl had found, but she did wish her to be happy. And the Unsullied commander of her army made Missandei _very_ happy.

She was pulled from her thoughts when she spotted Grey Worm hurrying towards her, Missandei and a few other Unsullied right behind them.

As she entered her tent, knowing they would follow soon after, she wanted to joke about how they didn’t have to run every time their queen called them, but when they came in, the seriousness on their faces froze her smile in its place.

“Your Grace”, Grey Worm started, slightly out of breath, “I am sorry to disturb you-“

“Disturb me?” Daenerys answered, puzzled, “I just called you both here. Tyrion and I wanted to discuss our plans for tomorrow.”

He shook his head at that. “I apologize, I did not realize this. I should have been here sooner, but Missandei and I-“

“Yes, yes, I’m sure you two were doing lovely, unspeakable things,” Tyrion interrupted, making the two lovers’ blush, “but would you mind _finally_ telling us what you came rushing in here for?”

Grey Worm nodded immediately. “Yes, of course. Your Grace, the last scouts have returned with news.”

It was then that Daenerys noticed that the other Unsullied had followed Grey Worm into her tent – something none of her soldiers usually did.

“Would that be good news, Grey Worm?” Her heart was beating loudly in her chest, although she willed her body not to show it.

She rejoiced as the commander of her army nodded. “Four of my men have returned, your Grace. The other three brought the same information we had already heard from our earlier ones, but this one brings better news. He believes he has found a way in.”

The room fell silent for a moment as the information seeped in. Daenerys took a deep breath as she took in the scout. It was one of the younger Unsullied, that much was obvious, he was even shorter than she was. But besides that he had the same build as the others, all muscles and no fat, and he comported himself the same disciplined way.

He was exactly like all of the others, except for the color of his eyes. Unlike the dark brown eyes that were common to most of her soldiers, this one had cold, grey eyes. Steeled, like the rest of them, but different nonetheless. The young man intrigued her.

“What is your name, soldier?”

Without missing a beat, Arya answered in the voice that once belonged to the young man who’s face she was wearing.

“This one is Frog, your Grace.” She did her best to make her accent as thick as she could. The one called Grey Worm, she had noticed, could speak the Common Tongue easily, but the others all still had trouble with the new language.

The queen had locked eyes with her, making it hard for the Unsullied-in-disguise to keep her face straight. It felt as though this dragon Queen was staring right into her soul, with those violet eyes of hers… It mesmerized Arya.

“Frog… Lovely name, as we are used to from your people. So then, _Frog_ , what is this golden piece of information that will win us this battle?”

Arya made sure to scrunch her face, looking puzzled at the dwarf’s words. A good thing she had known he was prone to making these kinds of jokes, and that she had watched Grey Worm react to them enough to know that Unsullied usually didn’t get them.

“I did not find gold, my lord. That was not my mission…” ‘Frog’ responded, knowing it would annoy Tyrion.

Arya had known him back at the time before her father was killed, and when she was a child she didn’t like him at all. Growing up afterwards, she had built up such a hatred for the Lannister name that she didn’t distinguish between any of them. But after hearing about what he’d done – or tried to do – for Bran, Jon, and even Sansa, and after observing him for a bit in the queen’s camp, she could… tolerate him. Or not kill him where he stood, at least.

The dwarf rolled his eyes, but this time the queen beat him in answering.

“This is urgent, Frog. Disregard what Tyrion said just now and tell us what you’ve found out, please.”

Daenerys’ words were, short, clear, authoritative and yet not rude like rulers usually were.

_Not too horrible an ally in a war against the White Walkers_ , Arya thought, before giving the queen her answer.

“Yes, your Grace. I was scouting on the East side of the city Walls. The large gate on this side is greatly guarded, many men have watch every hour.”

She could hear Tyrion mumble something along the lines of “tell us something we don’t know” in his wine cup, but a strict gaze from Daenerys shut him up straight away, and when she nodded Arya knew she could continue.

“I have found, however, one smaller gate. I believe it is usually used by the merchants, though with the upcoming fight now no one has gone in and out yet. The gate is small, and does not lead straight into the city, so it would be impossible to bring the entire army I through it-“

“So it is useless, then?” This time, to the queen’s surprise, it was Missandei who spoke. She reddened again, apparently surprised herself that she had dared to speak up. She couldn’t help herself, though. After the danger Grey Worm had been in during the last battle, and the feelings she had developed for him, she wanted to make sure that everything was as safe for him as it could be in his battles.

Arya, for her part, was surprised as well. And annoyed.

_Come on, seriously? This is a time-sensitive plan, why do these people insist on interrupting me? Do they not want to win this fight?_

She kept her face schooled though, and shook her head.

Daenerys cocked her head to the side as the scout did this, trying to figure out why he would give such a useless piece of information.

“If you do not believe it is useless, Frog, then what do you suggest? If it is to march in with only part of the army, I’m afraid-“

“If that is your plan, we’re afraid you have been wasting our _very_ precious time.” Tyrion finished, trying to look at the scout menacingly while downing his drink.

Once more, Arya shook her head, trying not to grumble.

_These people…_

“We do go in with only part of the army, but-“ she quickly continued, before anyone could interrupt, “not to attack. The smaller gate has a sentinel that is an immediate link to the other watch posts, and that seems to often not be guarded. If a group of our Unsullied go in unseen, we can quietly take down the guards on the wall, until-“

“Until we reach the main gate!” Grey Worm continued, nodding almost enthusiastically.

He turned to his queen. “Your grace, this one’s plan might work. If we go in tonight, they won’t expect us. And the rest of the army can be ready to enter the city by horse as soon as we open the gate.” He nodded again. “What do you say?”

Daenerys mulled the idea over in her head. She looked at Tyrion. He could see the unspoken question in her eyes, and without jokes this time, he answered it.

“It’s perfect, your Grace. They can see us make up our camp and will expect us to attack at sunrise. Knowing my sister, she might even want to ride here to meet you for a moment, possibly making empty threats or even actually trying to kill you. This is how Lannister battles usually go. So taking the city before she even has a chance to fully prepare, is both tactically great and just brings me joy knowing that Cersei will be _pissed_.”

He smiled smugly, clearly already thinking about the look on his sister’s face, and after a moment of though Daenerys followed suit.

“Gentlemen. I believe we have a plan.”


	7. A Different Kind of Battle

Daenerys had a hint of a smile on her face as she stood in the opening of her tent, facing her men. She could see that they were taking the announcement of the plan well – or at least the part that concerned them.

Tyrion had advised that they only told the soldiers to be ready to strike before dawn, without any of the details of how they would open the gates, just in case a spy were able to make it in their midst.

_As if anyone who is not Dothraki or Unsullied could ever get in this camp without being spotted…_

But, even though she didn’t believe it could happen, she did end up agreeing with Tyrion and instructed her men to only communicate the morning-attack-plan to the others, just to be sure.

As she looked outside, she saw the Dothraki loudly sharpening their swords, swinging them around or some even sparring with others, a big grin on their faces. They had waited a long time for this battle, and the anticipation obviously had them excited in an almost childlike fashion.

The Unsullied among her men were entirely different. Although many had somewhat loosened up since they were freed, their way of war was still the same: disciplined, steeled, in full control. They were sharpening their swords and preparing their armor in complete silence, ignoring the loud Dothraki around them.

_My army_ …, the Queen thought fondly. She felt proud of both groups, regardless of their differences.

Her heart filled with joy, she looked beyond the encampment toward the city Walls. If she tried, she could even make out the towers of the castle. The idea that in only hours, a few days at most, that could be _her_ castle. _Her_ throne.

Excited couldn’t even begin to describe how she felt.

She contained it though, making sure she maintained a cool exterior. This was no time for emotion.

When she noticed some movement to her left, she focused closer by again. Grey Worm was running toward her, 7 other Unsullied in tow. The scout, Frog, was among them as well, she saw from a distance.

The young Unsullied was a mystery to her, he intrigued her to no end, and she could not explain why. It was just a feeling, something about his grey eyes that spoke to her.

Her short adviser apparently felt the same way. As she had sent Grey Worm and Frog away to collect their team for the sneak attack, Tyrion had approached her about the young man.

_“Strange, don’t you think?”, the dwarf had said as the two Unsullied had left the tent._

_Daenerys looked at him as he poured another cup of wine. “What is? Your appetite for wine the day before an important battle?”, she had asked him, her eyebrow perfectly arched._

_Tyrion didn’t even look slightly embarrassed. “Ha! Your Grace, with or without wine, my contribution to this war will not be of very much importance on the battlefield. No, I was talking about the scout, Frog…” His face grew serious for a moment._

_“What about him, Lord Tyrion?”_

_The dwarf sighed. “I’m not sure, it’s just… Something about him rubs me the wrong way.. Something in his eyes that feels familiar somehow…”_

_Daenerys’ heart stopped, although she didn’t let it show. She had felt the same way about the young Unsullied._

_“And it just seems… Too easy, I suppose. I mean, your Grace, 5 other Unsullied tried to find a way in, and this guy is the only one who comes up with something?”_

_She saw him rub his hands through his hair for a moment. The movement made it clear to her that he really had his doubts about this man, and although she did too, she didn’t want to agree with him. She couldn’t._

_Not when they finally had a plan that could work._

Daenerys had brushed him off, then, saying that she trusted Frog and had faith in the plan.

In reality, though, she too had her doubts. And as she watched the 8 Unsullied hurrying toward her, she was determined to settle those doubts by the end of the night.

The true Queen of Westeros turned around and entered her tent before the men arrived.

Tyrion was sitting where she had left him earlier, rifling through a heap of maps of King’s Landing with a cup of wine next to him. He looked up when she entered.

“They have returned”, she announced, watching him nod in agreement.

She knew he still hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that the plan had come too easily, something he showed by still looking through the maps, but to his credit he had kept his doubts to himself.

She was glad he did. Doubts were the last thing her army needed right now.

Daenerys joined him at the table just as the Unsullied entered. As per usual, they walked in at the same pace, lining up perfectly in front of her, their hands clasped at their backs, their eyes cold and serious.

She looked them in the face, one by one before she spoke. Again, her eyes lingered far longer on the steely grey ones. She could see the same disciplined determination in them, yet they still felt different from the others, in a way she couldn’t explain.

When she finally pulled away from the eyes and addressed the group, she could see Tyrion watching her from the corner of her eye.

_Damn his intelligence… He knows I have doubts about this young man as well…Well, it does not matter, I will have certainty soon enough._

So she ignored him and grew serious, her face strict as she addressed her men.

“My Unsullied, you 8 have been selected to be a very important part of this battle…” she began, explaining the plan to them all.

Arya was only listening with half an ear, her mind running off on its own.

She had gotten them to believe her this far, they were following her plan as she had hoped, and the men Grey Worm had chosen were – according to her – definitely adequate to execute is perfectly. They were quiet, invisible, and skilled.

Despite that, she had an odd feeling about it all, and it was mostly caused by the people in front of her. One the one hand, there was the Lannister dwarf, who had been looking at her like she had personally murdered his entire family…

_I wish…_

And on the other hand, there was the Dragon Queen, a woman Arya could still not fully read and who had been watching her like she was…

Well, she didn’t quite know _how_ the queen was watching her, but it made her nervous regardless.

_And I’m not even doing anything wrong! I’m helping them, this plan is entirely about helping them, can’t they just accept his and be done with it?_

She felt like a petulant child thinking this way, though. The young wolf understood their doubts, and honestly, she was sure she would feel the same way if it was the other way around.

To be more precise, if it was the other way around, she would probably have tortured this ‘Frog’ guy already… Or killed him…

Trust wasn’t really her strong suit.

Luckily, though, it didn’t seem like the Queen and her half-man intended anything like that. Well, Tyrion wasn’t much of a killer anyway, Daenerys worried her more.

She was ripped from her thoughts when she heard her ‘name’…

“… but perhaps Frog will know a way around that.”

The question slightly startled her, but after years of spying on people as a Faceless Men she had learned to listen even when not really listening, so she met the Queen’s violet eyes without flinching.

Arya nodded.

“I do, your Grace,” she once more spoke with a heavy accent. The question had been about how they would get in in the first place, which was of course part of her plan. “I will first go in alone, kill the first guards and slightly open the small gate so they can enter. Then, we go on to the others.”

She had said it flatly, although she knew that if they didn’t trust her, someone would respond negatively to this part of the plan. And, sure enough-

“Wait, wait, wait!” Tyrion said, standing up from his seat to face the queen, pointing at Frog as he spoke. “Do you mean to say that this entire plan rides on _you_ getting our men in? Your Grace, I-“

Daenerys put her hand up to stop him, but didn’t face him. She kept her eyes trained on the young Unsullied.

“What my advisor means to say, Frog, is that you seem rather young, perhaps inexperienced…” Arya could see in his eyes that that was _not_ what Tyrion meant, but the queen pressed on regardless. “Are you certain you will be able to do all this and get my men in, without being seen?”

Arya could almost hear the ‘or killed’ behind that sentence, but she ignored it and did her best not to grin smugly at her words.

_As if I could fail at a simple task like this. Acting like it’s my first time killing…_

She kept her expression schooled though, and simply nodded. “Yes, your Grace. This one may be smaller, but this helps to sneak in. And this would not be my first kill. Frog can do it.”

Daenerys felt conflicted. On the one hand, Frog’s face and posture were exactly like the other Unsullied, but on the other hand his grey eyes betrayed something… different. It looked like an arrogant confidence, or amusement even.

But as soon as she saw it, it was gone again, and the young man once more looked exactly like his fellow soldiers.

She made her decision then.

“Very well. You will all begin preparing. As said, you need to leave when the moon is at its highest point. And once you have reached the main gate, you dim the fires. Is all understood?”

They all nodded.

“Then leave. I wish you all good luck.”

The Unsullied began to leave, but Daenerys spoke up before the last one could: “Frog!”

The young man turned around, looking almost startled.

“Stay here, I need to have a word with you. Tyrion, you may go.”

The dwarf obviously wanted to protest the remark, but the look in her eyes made it clear that there was no arguing this command.

The same look made Arya feel worried as well.

_How is this happening? I was almost out the door! The plan is set, they are all going to prepare… She can’t have doubts now, can she? If she blows this whole thing off I swear-_

Her mind was racing, but her face kept expressionless as she took her place in the middle of the tent again.

She kept quiet, her grey eyes watching on as the queen stood up to face her. When she spoke she always sounded like a giant, and her presence gave her a mighty feel as well, but when she stood up now, in the privacy of her own tent, she seemed rather… small.

Well, she was still taller than Arya, though, and Daenerys was playing that out now, moving closer to the girl, seemingly to look down on her.

Arya stayed quiet and kept a puzzled expression on her face all this time, but the silence was starting to unnerve her.

Finally, when the queen continued staring into her eyes, the young Stark couldn’t take it anymore.

“Your Grace? You wished to speak with me?” she was glad to hear that her voice still sounded calm, although her heart was beating very fast.

The Queen smiled slightly, cocking her head to the side. “I do indeed, Frog…” she said sweetly, her voice an octave lower than earlier.

Arya’s mind was doing overtime when she heard her. She didn’t know why, but just those few words made her heart almost beat out of her chest.

Daenerys continued in the same way. Although the Unsullied was obviously trying to keep his cool, she could see a slight blush forming on his cheeks.

_Success! Men… They are all the same…_

“I was just wondering, why is your name Frog?”

Arya looked at her incredulously. This was the last question she had expected. She quickly tried to explain her expression.

“Forgive me, your Grace, your question has surprised me. I did not believe you would want to know about my name the night before an important battle…”

The Queen smiled, stepping even closer to the young Unsullied man.

So close that Arya could even smell her, a combination of leather and roses and… fire. It sparked something inside her, but she quenched it just as quickly.

She could finally see what the queen was trying to do, and although her body may try and react to the woman’s advances, Arya knew better.

She took an invisible deep breath, and looked the queen in the eyes questioningly.

Daenerys answered. “You are right, of course, but I was simply curious. It is an odd name, so why is it yours?”

She touched the Unsullied’s armor as she said it, wiping away some dirt on the chest plate.

Arya’s breath almost caught in her throat as the queen did this, but she rationalized quickly.

_It’s a test. This is a test. She wants to make sure I am truly Unsullied. That I know the history behind these men’s names._

She was glad she finally figured out what was happening, and on top of that she was happy that this was one test she could barely fail. After all, the history of the Unsullied had been well known in Braavos, and she had heard the story told countless times as she was travelling with these men.

So she answered.

“This one was called _Dirty Frog” . S_ he said the words in High Valyrian, the language the masters had spoken to the Unsullied before Queen Daenerys Stormborn had come to free them. “When Your Grace finally freed us and told us to choose our new name, I chose to be Frog, in the language of our Mother.”

Daenerys looked into his eyes as he spoke, but she couldn’t find any sign of a lie.

So she nodded, and stepped back. “Very well then, thank you for telling me. Go and prepare now, you have a long night ahead of you.”

She locked eyes with the grey ones once more. The young Unsullied nodded at her words, but didn’t move straight away. He just continued looking into her eyes, almost like he was staring into her soul.

She was captivated, and when Frog finally looked away and walked out, it felt like she could breathe freely again.

The moment the Unsullied left, Tyrion came back in. He had obviously been listening outside of the tent.

The Queen spoke first. “So , did that ease your doubts?”

She tried to sound confident, but was curious to see what Tyrion would say.

“It does seem like he’s the real deal, yes. But I do wish you would have said something to me. If I had known you were planning on testing the young man-“

She smiled at her advisor. “If you had simply had faith in me you would have known that this was something I was going to do. After all, when my Right Hand has doubts, it is my duty as the Queen to make sure they are ungrounded.”

Tyrion half-smiled back at her. “I suppose so, your Grace. I’m glad you did, though. This talk will definitely help me sleep more soundly.”

He wished her goodnight and left the tent once more, leaving Daenerys with a strange feeling… A feeling that the young Unsullied could be trusted, but on the other hand a feeling that he was hiding something from her…

And then there were those grey, mysterious eyes…


	8. City of Blood

Arya took a deep breath as she watched the city wall. Waiting _really_ wasn’t her strongest suit, even after years of learning patience in the House of Black and White. She fought the urge to fidget though, and instead focused on levelling her breathing and making sure she didn’t miss the switch of the guards.

Lucky for her, her companions were the most disciplined men on the planet. After they had left the camp, Grey Worm had given her the complete okay to dictate their every move, and since then none of them had said a word. They had simply followed her orders when she told them to wait while she watched for the right moment.

She thought it was strange, of course. Here she was, an intruder who had been with them on and off over the course of a few weeks, only days even if you counted the days she sneaked off, and yet one word of their commander and they listened to her like she was the queen herself.

Well, that might have been a bit much, but still. She wondered why this went so easy, and for some reason she had the feeling that her last talk with the Queen had something to do with it.

_The Queen…_

The young killer clenched her teeth, squaring her jaw. These past days she had been watching the woman, in awe of her abilities – she had heard the tales of what the Mother of Dragons had been through, and couldn’t believe the woman’s strength after all of that - but that respect she felt had shifted hours before this moment, when they had their “talk”.

The test was very strange, Arya thought. Not because Daenerys had tested her, though, it would have been stranger if she had never tested the one person that handed her a “perfect plan”. It was the way the queen had done it that had disturbed her. It had been so odd, so femininely, so…

_touchy…_

Arya felt a blush creep up her cheeks as she thought back to that moment in the tent, but she pushed it back just in time to focus on the wall again, where she saw the new guards arriving.

She immediately went to action, signaling Grey Worm who was sitting right next to her.

“Commander”, she said in the Unsullied’s native tongue, “the guards have changed. I will sneak in, kill the one they left and open the gate for you. Be ready at my signal.”

Grey Worm scrunched his eyebrows, as if he wanted to disagree with the plan, but eventually he nodded. “I will tell the others. _Valar morghulis._ ”

Arya nodded back, still somewhat surprised that even the commander of the Unsullied didn’t doubt her. “ _Valar dohaeris_.”

She left the group of men silently, sneaking towards the wall like a shadow. As she scaled it, she could feel the excitement growing, as it always did right before she killed someone.

Finding a grip on the wall was as easy as when she had been a kid climbing Winterfell, but memories of her childhood were quickly overcome with memories of her brother Bran falling from those same walls, so she pushed them back quickly.

She had noticed it before, and she noticed it again as she reached the top of the wall: it was easy not to be overcome with nostalgia and sadness when she slit a man’s throat…

 

* * *

 

 

Daenery’s heart was beating so loud in her chest that she thought everyone around her, even the entire kingdom could hear it. She had been standing in front of her tent for the better half of the night, switching her focus between King’s Landing on one side and the east on the other.

Her men were ready, Dothraki and Unsullied alike. For the purpose of not being spotted prematurely, they were all waiting inside their tents. Their horses, hers as well, were saddled and fully equipped for a long day of battle, ready to depart within seconds.

They were all waiting for her to give the signal, but the queen was waiting for her scouts to give it first.

And so far, the King’s Landing side showed no sign of movement, but she could see the light start to shine through in the east.

_This has gone terribly wrong, it must have… They should have signaled by now!_

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves and ease her doubts.

Was she right to trust Frog? Was she right to order Grey Worm and the others to obey his every word, without question?

“Any moment now, they will signal us, Your Grace”, Tyrion said, looking at her for a moment before focusing on the royal city once more. Daenerys turned to him and could see in his eyes that he was trying to be reassuring, although the fact that he hadn’t had a drop of wine in hours betrayed his nervousness.

She didn’t answer him, she couldn’t, and neither did Missandei. The Queen wasn’t even sure her Summer Islander had heard the dwarf’s words: the girl had been fidgeting ever since Grey Worm had left them.

The silence hung heavy between them, and even over the entire camp. The men were all awake, sitting in their tents, and yet not a single sound was heard.

Daenerys saw the first sign of sunrise, and sighed.

“The sun is rising, their time is up. If we don’t fight now, we-“

Her words were cut off by Missandei’s shouted whisper: “The fire! The fires at the main gate have all been put out!”

She was almost jumping with relief, pointing towards the city, but there was no need for her to point: they could see it, the signal exactly as they had agreed.

Daenerys just needed to shout once: “Aggo! Sound the horn!”

She could hear the horn sound come from the tent next to her straight away, as if her Bloodrider had had it ready at his lips all night.

Soon, the other horns were heard throughout the camp, and she could see her men bursting out of their tents, immediately jumping on their horses and heading for the city, as they had been ordered.

The queen watched as her army raced towards the city, an impressive horde of  horses and men leaving a cloud of dust in their wake.

She waited for a moment as her camp emptied, her heart beating in her chest as the first riders reached the gate. When she saw that their line didn’t break on the wall, but was able to enter the city she let out a breath that she didn’t know she had been holding and mounted her horse.

Tyrion and Missandei followed suit, mounting their horses. She could see they were both nervous, but when they caught her eye they smiled softly at her.

“Ready to take your throne, your Grace?” Tyrion grinned as he spoke.

Daenerys didn’t answer straight away, but whistled first. When her dragons took to the sky, flying right above her like menacing guardians, she answered him with a steel smile.

“Ready to take my kingdom.”

 

* * *

 

 

The fighting was heavy from the start: the Lannister soldiers were surprised that they had gotten in, but because it was the morning of a battle most of them had been up and even somewhat ready by the time the first Dothraki riders entered the city.

The Lannister army didn’t have their horses though, so even though there were many of them, the Dothraki were able to cut through them easily, spreading them out as the sped through the narrow King’s Landing streets.

At the beginning, it seemed that some of the inhabitants were also going to join in the fight, but when they saw the giant dragons fly over their city, occasionally setting some soldiers on fire, the regular people quickly gave up.

Daenerys rode through the city calmly, flanked by her advisor and Missandei, as well as a small group of Unsullied to protect them.

They didn’t join in on the fighting, of course. She ordered her dragons to occasionally put some archers on fire if they looked like they meant danger, or if she wanted to make a point, but she didn’t want to make them burn the entire city to the ground.

After all, it would be her city soon enough.

The small group went forward slowly, as the way was paved for them by her men.

The sounds and smells of battle were all around her, blood colored the streets and houses of King’s Landing, but Daenerys stayed impervious to it all. She knew that from these windows, people would be watching, and so she wanted to show them what a _real_ queen looked like.

By midday, they were able to advance much more quickly – her Dothaki and Unsullied were now able to ride through the streets almost unhindered, cutting down the few Usurper soldiers they encountered.

As the sun reached its highest point, they reached the main place, an empty hole where once the Great Sept of Baelor had stood, and where now only the statue of Baelor the Blessed showed what once the purpose of this place had been.

Daenerys stopped her horse for a moment, staring at the castle that was within her reach now, once her men cleared the road.

“Ah, the Red Keep, how I’ve missed this Godforsaken place.” Tyrion said, bitterly, looking up at the castle.

Daenerys smiled slightly at her advisor’s words. “I suppose you missed it? This has been your home for years, has it not?”

She could see Tyrion frown as he rode forward to look at what had once been the Great Sept.

“It has indeed, your Grace, but I fear my dearest sister has… redecorated quite a bit.” He smiled as he turned away from the crater in the ground, to focus on the dragon queen again. “I do hope she didn’t decide to do the same to your throne. It would be a shame if we found it made of dirt instead of swords…”

Daenerys chuckled, feeling some joy for the first time that day. “Well, I do suppose that would take away the appeal of it – perhaps no one will try to fight me for it. The ‘Dirt Throne’ doesn’t sound too horrible, does it, lord Ty-“

“Your Grace, look out!” She could see the fear in Tyrion’s eyes, and her smile died on her face as she saw the soldier with the lion on his chest kill two of the Unsullied that were protecting her and run straight ahead.

She could see him grab a knife, aiming it at her face. She could even see him let go of it in slowmotion, watching as it came closer to her head. She was unable to move, unable to even breath.

What happened in only seconds felt like minutes to her, but even though time was going so slowly, she still remained paralyzed. She could almost feel that Tyrion and her Unsullied were hurrying toward her, but they would be too late.

As the blade almost hit her face, she clenched her jaw, readying herself for the impact.

Instead, the impact she felt was that of a slender arm hitting her face, and a weight that pulled her from her horse.

Daenerys felt herself held by two thin yet muscular arms, keeping her from falling down completely as they both hit the ground.

As her horse finally ran off, she could see that the Lannister soldier was still coming for her, unsheathing his sword as he ran.

“Is your Grace alright?” Daenerys could hear the voice breathing heavy as he spoke, a hint of pure fatigue and something like worry leaking through. When she looked up for a moment, she could see Frog, his grey eyes still focused on the enemy.

The queen understood why she was still alive when she noticed Frog’s arm, which still held her shoulders. The knife that was supposed to kill her was lodged in the young Unsullied’s lower arm, causing blood to seep down the man’s arm onto her and on the ground.

She barely had time to respond with a “I’m fine, you’re the one who’s bleeding!” when Frog suddenly let go of her and pulled the knife from her own arm, keeping it in his left hand as he waited for the assailant to reach them.

Daenerys stood back worried as she watched the young Unsullied move with a grace she had never expected, sidestepping the much taller man as he swung his sword at him, and in one smooth move slicing the Lannister soldier’s throat.

The queen was awestruck, looking at the young man standing over the dead enemy. She could see Frog was covered in more than just his own blood. His armor, arms and even his face and hairs were tinted red, and there was a sinister darkness to those grey eyes Daenerys had never seen before.

 


	9. Scratch

Daenerys was still reeling from the shock of the attack, staring at her savior.

_Frog…_

As she watched the Unsullied catch his breath, Tyrion and her men caught up with her, immediately swarming her and blocking her view.

“Your Grace! Is everything alright?!” “Your Grace, our deepest apologies” “Are you okay, my queen?” “What-“

The questions were overwhelming her, especially after the emotion of the past few minutes, but as they asked away Daenerys took a deep breath, steeling her eyes again.

Emotions were for when her throne was hers.

“I was not hurt.” She said firmly, shutting them up effectively. “I was careless, tasting victory before I had it. That will not happen again. Luckily, I have good men that I can count on.”

She looked past them to the young Unsullied, who was now bent over, apparently looking to see if the Lannister soldier had better weapons. The others followed her gaze.

Arya was looking at the soldier’s weapons indeed, but only because she needed something to focus on to ease her racing mind.

_She was almost killed. Daenerys- the queen - was almost KILLED._

The young wolf tried to get her breathing under control again. Her day had been going great up until that point: her morning plan had gone perfectly, if she said so herself, and the rest of the day was spent fighting and killing, swimming in the blood of her enemies.

_It was such a great day, and then this asshole_ – she resisted to urge to kill the dead man – _had to come along and almost kill my queen!_

Arya was so pissed off she didn’t even notice that she thought of the woman as ‘her queen’, she simply kept moping.

_Stupid eunuch ‘guards’ not guarding her…_

_If I hadn’t come to look for her…_

_Those dragons are completely useless…_

_Ran my lungs out to get here in time..._

_Where were the Dothraki horses at the most important time, huh? Fastest animals across the Narrow Sea my ass…_

_They almost got her KILLED!_

Her internal ramblings were interrupted when a shadow blocked the sun. As she looked up, Arya could see the queen, her silver hair lit up by the sunlight like a crown, smiling down at her like an angel, or a goddess even.

_Damn…_

Her thoughts were put to a stop immediately as she stood up, making sure her emotionless Unsullied face was in place again.

Arya nodded. “Your Grace, I apologize, I was almost too late. I should have-”

Daenerys’ hand shot up to interrupt her, and she looked at her savior with an amused smile. “You save my life, your Queen’s life, and you apologize?” The dragon queen shook her head. “If anything, you should apologize for the way you saved my life.”

‘Frog’ nodded straight away, understanding perfectly what the Queen meant. “You are right, of course, your Grace. I apologize for pulling you of your horse, you could have gotten hurt and-“

“I am _not_ talking about that, Frog”, Daenerys interrupted firmly, grabbing the young Unsullied’s hand, turning the arm to look at the wound. “I was talking about this! I have seen you fight him, you were good enough not to get hit by him, and yet you are hurt. I cannot accept that.”

Arya frowned. She had not expected this, and wasn’t really sure how an Unsullied would respond to their queen’s words.

“I… Your Grace, this is just a small scratch. Not something you need to concern yourself with…”

“My people _are_ my concern, Frog, especially those that have gotten my army into my city, and then saved my life.” Daenerys sounded almost angry when Arya told her it was just a scratch, which threw the girl off even more.

“Erm… Then I apologize, your Grace?...”

When she saw the queen close her eyes and take a deep breath, the young wolf knew this wasn’t the answer Daenerys had hoped to get from her soldier.

Arya tried to apologize some more, afraid that she might have done something terribly wrong as the queen walked away from her, but she closed her mouth as soon as she opened it.

_Apologize? For what? For displeasing her, seriously Arya, are you a wolf or a bug?_

She was surprised once more when the queen returned with a water skin and pulled her toward the statue of Baelor.

Dumbfounded she stood, relieved to be able to stand in the shadow for a moment instead of the burning sun, and looked at the clearly annoyed queen.

“Sit.”

Arya almost forgot who she was supposed to be, and wanted to answer that she took orders from no one, but the stern look in the queen’s eyes and her arched eyebrow stopped her from slipping up.

So she sat down next to the horrible statue, trying to keep her face collected, she had to admit she was glad she was sitting down. After all, she hadn’t done so since before dawn.

A small sigh did escape her when she finally leant back against the statue, eyes closed in pleasure for a second, and when she opened them again she saw Daenerys slightly grinning, her violet eyes lit with amusement.

“Good, I almost worried you weren’t actually human…” The queen quipped as she tore off a part of her bright blue cloak to start cleaning the wound with water.

Arya felt her heartbeat speed up when the silver-haired woman held the underside of her arm gently as she softly tended the wound. She tried not to get distracted, though, and answered with only a small delay.

“Worry again, your Grace? Where I am from there is a saying, too much worry will make your hairs grey. It seems you have already worried too much.” The younger girl had said it with the thick Unsullied accent, and for a second she worried that the joke might have gotten lost in translation.

When a big smile broke through on the queen’s face, she knew it hadn’t. Arya half-smiled back.

Daenerys found great joy in the fact that she had been able to make the strong Unsullied smile. She could see the grey eyes shine with joy, and it filled her heart.

_How can those eyes go from the deepest darkness to these… childlike… puppy eyes?_

The moment passed too soon, though, and she could see Frog’s eyes go back to their usual steely greys.

She felt a pang in her heart at this, but ignored it and focused on the job at hand.

The knife wound was deep, but it was a clean cut, and it didn’t look like any arteries were hit.

The queen tore another large piece off her blue cloak to bandage it up. She knew the wound needed to be cauterized, or stitched, but she also knew that Frog wasn’t the kind of person who would walk away from a fight to get his wounds taken care off.

As she wrapped tightly, to stop the bleeding as much as possible, she could see Frog’s eyes turn upward, staring at the statue, his jaw clenched.

When the young man looked down again, she could see the darkness in his eyes once more, but joined by something deeper, a sadness almost.

This time, Daenerys couldn’t resist asking.

“Are you okay, Frog?” When the young man nodded but turned his face away, she gently cupped it and guided it back so he would look her in the eyes.

The touch was hot to Arya’s face, a soothing heat, and when she locked eyes with the queen’s, the sweetness in them comforted her greatly.

Daenerys tried once more. “You are not, I can see it in your eyes… You can tell me, what’s wrong.”

Arya sighed, looking down for a moment, though the queen’s hand never left her face.

“It’s nothing, your Grace… This place simply holds some… bad memories for me.”

The young Wolf hadn’t been back here in 7 years, when her father was killed, and due to her injury, memories that she had been pushing back for years began to resurface.

She was so distraught that, although her voice still sounded like a man’s thanks to the Faceless Men’s magic, she had forgotten about the heavy accent she was supposed to talk with for a moment.

This was lost on Daenerys though, who was struck by the idea that the young Unsullied had been here before.

“Wait, you have been here before, in King’s Landing? How is that pos-“

Arya was lucky enough to be saved by the bell then, which came in the form of a bloodied but relatively uninjured Grey Worm.

“Your Grace! I am sure to interrupt, but we have almost breached the gate to the castle! We will be able to get in in minutes!”

Daenerys stood up immediately. “Then we must prepare!” She addressed her people, who had gathered in the place. “Kovarro, get some Dothraki on foot to go into the castle with us, the rest should stay outside to weed out the last of the Lannister scum. Grey Worm, the Unsullied that are not too wounded need to get in formation to storm the castle. Make sure to search every room, but only kill those who fight you. When you find the queen and/or the throne room, you come to get me.”

Her men nodded and immediately ran off, shouting orders. The queen turned around again to talk to her wounded savior.

“And you, please don’t-“ she stopped talking when she noticed that the young man was gone.

Looking around, she could vaguely see an Unsullied with a blue arm running towards the castle.

She shook her head, trying to shake off the worry as well as she mounted her horse to ride into her future castle.

_He’s a soldier, this is a war. It will be fine…_

 

* * *

 

 

The castle was a maze, Daenerys thought as she walked through the hallways, following as her men went door by door.

All in all, though, things were going smoothly. There was some heavy fighting when they entered, of course, but when some Unsullied found their way through another door somehow and they were able to surround the enemies, they only came across some smaller groups of men, usually guarding a room of frightened nobles who couldn’t be bothered to fight.

Tyrion came in handy, of course, guiding the army to the throne room, but at some point he had apparently caught sight of his older brother and she allowed him to leave them.

Since then they were finding their own way toward her throne, but Daenerys wasn’t too worried about time. Most of her enemies were dead, she believed, and nothing could stop her now.

She was getting somewhat complacent, walking through these almost empty halls, when sudden shouts made her heart jump in her chest.

The Unsullied who accompanied her heard it too, and in an organized group they ran toward its source.

Following the sound, they arrived on a balcony, looking out into the throne room. Daenerys wanted to go on and run down, but her men stopped her and kept her quiet.

After mere moments she understood why.

On the ground floor, she could see the mighty Iron Throne to her right, with Queen Cersei Lannister in it, and in front of her a large soldier, towering over a pool of dead bodies.

The Unsullied and Dothraki that had been sent to check another hallway had apparently been trapped. The floor was littered with their bodies, as well as some Lannister ones.

The Lioness had apparently been cunning enough to set a trap for them.

_That bitch_ …

If Daenerys hadn’t gone the other way, if Tyrion had lead them through correctly, she and her group would have been caught by a dozen archers, of which she could see half were at least cut down by her men, and this mountain of a guard.

She could see more of her men enter the room, and frozen in her place she watched as they were cut down, one by one, either by an arrow, or gruesomely by the enormous guard.

One of the Dothraki was able to dodge the blow, and struck the Mountain, stabbing him in the gut.

The silver-haired queen almost smiled when she saw the sword stick through this man’s body, but her happiness quickly turned to horror when she saw him cut her Dothraki down regardless, and pull the sword out of his body afterwards.

Like he was merely stung by a bee…

_We can’t win…_ She thought, hopelessly, watching man after man die, with Cersei Lannister grinning from her throne. _This can’t be happening…_

The group of Unsullied that guarded her was obviously waiting for her instructions, but she didn’t know what to say… She couldn’t send them into that pit of _hell_ as well…

Daenerys was about to order her men to retreat when she saw it.

One, two, three archers fell in a swift swoop, like a shadow had appeared behind them to slit their throats.

Another one tried to shoot, but he missed greatly and fell down only moments later. When the last archer fell down, the shadow moved to the middle of the room.

The Dragon Queen could see the person clearly now. Despite all the blood she could see that the person was wearing the Unsullied’s armor, but the face was definitely one she had never seen before. On top of that, she could swear that this person was… a woman?

Puzzled, she watched the scene unfold in front of her, not understanding who this person was or where she had come from. It was only when she saw the bandage, a small bit of blue still peeking out from under the blood, that something clicked.

_Frog…?_

While her queen was getting increasingly distraught up on the balcony, Arya felt exhilarated.

It wasn’t a happiness she felt when she was back in this throne room, killing Lannister men.

No, she could never call it happiness…

It was excitement, and anger, and  a sense of fulfillment. This was the moment she had been dreaming of for seven years…

The wolf had taken her face off quite quickly. From the moment she entered the castle, she knew she couldn’t be ‘Frog’… No, when she finally went back into the castle again, she knew it would be as Arya Stark.

And now here she stood, covered in blood once more, staring up at the Mountain.

_Gregor Clegane… Cersei Lannister… This is the end._

She had noticed, of course, that the Mountain had changed. The sword piercing through him without any effect… It was clear that he had somehow cheated death.

But it did not matter, not to Arya.

She grabbed a Dothraki sword of the ground, finding a balance for the two swords in her hand, preparing for battle, when she heard a voice from behind the guard.

“Well, well, you’re quite small for a soldier, aren’t you? Does the Dragon Bitch send girls to do her dirty work these days?” The mountain stepped aside for a moment to show Arya that Cersei had stood up from her throne, grinning somewhat madly. “Or are you the Targaryen that we are all supposed to fear? Because in that case, the future of your Family seems to become rather short-lived…”

She continued smiling smugly as she paraded in front of her throne, and Arya had to fight to control her emotions.

“You don’t remember me, Cersei? How odd…” Arya said it calmly, preparing herself, pushing down the anger she felt bubbling up. “I remember you, though… And him as well.” She pointed her sword at the Mountain. “I vowed years ago that I would one day kill both of you, and here we are…”

Cersei laughed loudly, a crazy, arrogant laugh. “You? A frail little girl? Oh little dove, you might have been able to kill a few archers, but you would be a fool to think someone like you could ever kill my Mountain.”

Arya was completely herself again, emotions closed in, and she didn’t answer anymore, but simply grinned wickedly at the comment.

Cersei rolled her eyes, her smile faltering for a bit. “I’m done with this, just kill her.”

The Mountain immediately moved towards the girl, but Arya had been waiting for this moment. She danced around his heavy strikes, dodging blow after blow.

Normally when she fought larger opponents, the young Wolf would try to wear them down, but in this case she wasn’t even sure of the man still had lungs…

So she kept dodging him, trying to find an opening. It was hard, though, she felt the heavy blows miss her more and more closely, and at some point she found the only way to do this was to get hit.

The next time he swung at her, she practically parried it with her armor, her hands slightly up as she spun with the strike to get within the reach of his arms. She could feel the sword cut her, but she moved fast enough to not let the sword wound her too deeply, and afterwards she was finally in.

Fast as lightning she pushed the guard in his stomach, enough to tilt him back just a bit. When she did, she climbed the Mountain, put both her swords in an X underneath his chin and put every ounce of strength she had into pulling her arms apart.

When the Mountain fell, the sounds of his head and helmet hitting the ground were the first thing that could be heard, seconds later followed by the loud thud of his entire body crashing down as well.

The room was completely silent as these sounds echoed through the room, apart from Arya’s loud breathing.

The girl was tired, and hurt, but as she glanced up for a moment she could see her silver-haired queen was still watching her in stunned silence. She knew the woman would get out of her stupor soon enough, though, so she acted quickly.

Her dark grey eyes focused on Cersei again, as Arya slowly stepped off the Mountain’s body, inching towards her final prey.

Cersei was in shock… “H-how…? Who are you…?”

Arya savored the look in her eyes, and smiled.

“You might not remember me, Cersei. But I remember… The _North_ remembers.”

A flicker of recognition could be seen in the blonde woman’s eyes, but the young wolf didn’t give her a chance to talk anymore.

“You know me, Cersei. You and yours have killed my father and mother, Eddard Stark and Catelyn Tully. You all have killed my older brother, Robb Stark, and because of yours even my baby brother, Rickon Stark, was murdered.”

She backed the queen up against the wall next to the iron throne, never looking away from those frightened eyes.

“You have personally tortured my older sister, Sansa Stark, and crippled my younger brother Bran Stark. You have wronged _every single member of my family_ ,” Arya almost growled the last part, her anger fully shining through on her face. “And now, the Starks have come to take their revenge.”

She pulled out a dagger, the same one she had used on Walder Frey, and put it to the woman’s throat.

“I am Arya Stark of Winterfell”, she snarled almost shouting, “and you owe my family a large debt, Cersei Lannister. It is time you paid it.”

Cersei tried to speak at that, probably to stop her, but the young wolf was glad to see that she was too afraid to even form word.

_Good_ … She thought, smiling as she prepared to kill the woman.

“Wait! Stop! Don’t kill her!” She could hear Daenerys’ voice from upstairs and looked to her right for a moment to see the silver queen looking at her in a mixture of shock, fear and anger.

It didn’t matter to Arya now though, and she smiled as she slit Cersei’s throat.

“ _Valar morghulis_ ,” she said, as she scratched the last person from her list.


	10. The Aftermath

Arya felt like the world stopped for a moment when she saw the light in Cersei’s out go out. As the woman’s body slowly slid down onto the floor with a slight thud, the young girl breathed heavily.

This was it.

It was done.

Her heart was beating loudly in her chest, and while she watched the old queen leave a trail of blood on the wall, all Arya could hear were her heartbeat and her own heavy breathing.

 _I killed Cersei Lannister_.

She was still smiling darkly at the woman’s body beneath her. Of all the lives she had taken, this had been the one she had looked forward the most.

The wolf was pulled from her reverie when she heard movement behind her. When she saw the Unsullied and Dothraki were gathering around her, weapons at the ready, she closed her eyes for a moment.

_It is done, I’ve fulfilled my mission. Jon and Sansa can take care of the rest…_

Arya opened her eyes again, taking a deep breath as she turned around to face the room. She calmly dropped the knife she had been holding and brought her hands up beside her head to show the soldiers she was unarmed.

The movement brought her attention upon the wound in her side, the aftermath of fighting the Mountain. It made it hard for her to bring her left arm up completely, but she figured it didn’t matter when she saw angry eyes under silver hairs coming her way.

_All men must die…_

The young wolf stood proud, or at least as proud as she could with her aching side, her face once more a mask of steel as the queen approached her.

Daenerys, for her part, was not just angry.

She was _furious_ about the betrayal.

As she stood on the balcony, watching this girl killing Cersei Lannister, completely disregarding her orders to do so, she felt an anger bubbling up inside her. This Wolf in disguise had not only taken what was hers to do with as she pleased, she had infiltrated her camp, her _tent_ even… Hell, the dragon queen had almost felt concern for ‘Frog’!

So when the coast was finally clear, the Lannister forces all dead and her other men arrived in the throne room, Daenerys went downstairs with a red rage boiling inside her.

When she got down, her men had already surrounded the girl, spears pointed at her, prepared to kill her at any moment.

 _Good_ , Daenerys thought as she signaled them to let her through.

The men made a path for her in between them, straight down the middle. As she walked forward her eye was immediately pulled towards the iron throne.

 _Her_ throne.

The throne she wouldn’t have had, had it not been for the bloodied girl standing next to it.

The realization somewhat hit her when she shifted her vision to the left. The girl had turned around when she arrived, her hands in the air.

She looked hurt, Daenerys saw from the way the girl favored her left side, but her eyes were still the dark steely grey they had been when she had worn the face of ‘Frog’.

The silver queen didn’t want them to, but those eyes forced her to remember…

Remember how it was Frog who had given them the idea to get into King’s Landing.

How Frog was the one to perfectly execute this plan.

How Frog had personally saved her life, getting hurt in the process.

She could see the bandage she herself had used to bandage Frog’s arm on this girl, the blue still only vaguely visible beneath the bloodstains.

And she remembered, or knew, how it was this girl that had beaten a man that had killed dozens of her own soldiers.

Like it or not, this girl had done too much for her to kill her on the spot.

And yet, the more she looked at those grey eyes and the face that was so unfamiliar with them, the more the sense of betrayal overpowered the gratefulness she should have felt. And in the current situation, Daenerys preferred that feeling of anger over the deeper emotions the girl could bring out in her.

She realized she had been standing there, staring at the girl, for a long time when she saw some of the Dothraki next to her shift their swords for a bit, looking between her and the bloody girl in front of them.

The Queen put her head up, her hands behind her back, her face an angry mask.

“You have a lot of nerve, Stark girl, infiltrating my army.” She had said it calmly, but the power emanating from those few words were enough to make most men fear for their lives.

To her displeasure, Daenerys could see that the girl was not like most men, as she didn’t flinch even when the queen came closer to her. In fact, the young wolf even smiled at her statement, as if to say that infiltrating her army wasn’t much of a challenge to begin with.

It annoyed the Mother of Dragons greatly.

“You find that amusing, girl? I don’t believe you truly realize the situation you’re in right now.” Daenerys signaled to one of her Unsullied, who immediately hit the girl in her injured side with the back of his spear.

Grey eyes did flinch with pain this time, the queen was glad to see, and the Stark fell to her knees clutching at her side.

Daenerys walked even closer, cocking her head to the left. “That’s better. Now then, Stark girl, how many other wolves are there, disguised as my men?”

Arya stared at her from the floor, frowning in pain and anger, but didn’t answer her.

It was only when the queen signaled her man again that the girl answered.

“There was no one else. I came here alone.” She reluctantly answered, breathing through her teeth not to show signs of her pain.

The queen huffed at the statement, an emotionless laugh. “You expect me to believe that the Starks did not sent a pack of wolves, but just one little girl to battle? Please, girl, don’t make me laugh.”

Arya had a lot of difficulty hiding her anger now, the words of the woman triggering something inside her. She held back, though, remembering how the Waif was always able to best her in the House of Black and White when she couldn’t control her emotions.

“That _one little girl_ ”, the young wolf started slowly, trying to keep her anger at bay, “did what all _your_ men whose bodies now litter this floor could not do. This girl won your war for you.”

The queen almost wanted to let them hit the girl again for her insolence, but she held back. Instead, she rolled her eyes and answered. “You think you win this war for us? Little wolf, I had hundreds more soldiers in this castle, thousands more outside. At some point, that Mountain would have fallen by the hands of those men, and Cersei Lannister would have been mine.”

She was happy to see that the girl had no witty response to that remark, so she pressed on. “And now, once more I ask you, how many wolves using the faces of my men are still here?”

“Oh, your Grace, I doubt that there are any more who can do that particular trick among the Northerners.” Tyrion spoke this time, and Daenerys turned around to see that he entered quickly, a tall blonde man – his brother, she presumed – and Grey Worm in tow.

The dwarf was obviously informed about the situation, and he came forward to look more closely at the girl now.

“Remarkable… I never would have guessed you to be a woman when you were Unsullied, and even now I still have my doubts… But I guess you always were a tomboy, lady Stark.”

Daenerys could tell that the girl did not like this title by the way her eyes narrowed, but she ignored her and focused on Tyrion.

“What do you mean by that, lord Tyrion? Not-“ she continued quickly, “the part of guessing she was a woman, please, but the one about that trick? Is this not a kind of Northern magic?”

Tyrion shook his head, turning his gaze away from Arya and focusing on his queen once more.

“No, your Grace, the Northerners don’t know much in the way of magic, theirs is the way of the sword. No, I have read about this particular disguise, and it is characteristic of the Faceless Men of Braavos.”

The silver haired queen looked at the girl for another moment, studying her once more steeled face before turning back to Tyrion.

She had heard of these Faceless Men, originally a group of slaves that had killed most their masters. Their abilities were legendary, and although she had a hard time believing that this young girl could be part of that impressive order, the fact that she was able to put on a different face was proof enough.

“Very well then, if you believe there are no other Northerners disguised like her here, I will trust your judgement, lord Tyrion. But are you sure this one was part of the Faceless Men? If she truly is Arya Stark, how was she able to get to Braavos? I had heard the youngest Stark daughter was killed years ago!”

Tyrion began to answer, but before he could his brother chimed in behind him.

“No, Arya Stark was never killed, though not for lack of trying.” Jaime Lannister’s voice was wary, and he was obviously trying hard not to look at where the girl was sitting next to his sister’s body. Regardless, he continued speaking. “The girl was an obsession for Cersei from the start. The fact that they weren’t able to find her straight away made for a lot of angry talks with the captain of the guard. To think that that little girl would end up being her undoing…” He swallowed harshly as he shook his head.

Daenerys understood his pain somewhere, but she wouldn’t grant him a time to mourn. After all, this man was the Kingslayer that had killed her father.

“So the girl was proclaimed dead because your sister couldn’t find her?”

Jaime nodded. “More or less… Cersei wanted to make Catelyn Stark believe that she still had both her daughters as hostages, but word got out after some time that the youngest one was not in her care. She was a ten-year-old girl, for gods’ sakes! How could she possibly have been alive when no one had seen her after her father Ned Stark was taken prisoner for treason to the cro-“

His words were stopped abruptly by a gasp from the queen and the feeling of metal against his throat.

Arya had not been able to sit there and listen to his words without remembering things she had been trying to forget, and feeling the anger boil inside of her. She was trying to remain calm, trying to push back her emotions, but when she heard that _man_ say her father’s name something had snapped inside her.

She grabbed the knife she had tossed away earlier, and in a few quick steps she had it at Jaime’s throat, her other hand holding on to his collar not just to keep him close enough so he couldn’t dodge, but also to keep herself from falling.

“You do _not_ get to say that name, Lannister. And we both know the only traitors here were you and your sister.”

Dark grey eyes stared into shocked blue ones. Arya was glad to feel the man’s heartbeat speeding up as a sign of fear, and she smiled as she pushed at the knife a bit to see the first drop of blood dripping down. Jaime Lannister may not have been on her list, but she could easily add his name now.

“That’s enough!”

The queen’s voice pulled her from her actions. Arya rolled her eyes.

“Your Grace, if you didn’t know, this is Jaime Lannister, the man who could your late king Aerys Targaryen, and that is not even the worst thing he has done.” She looked back at the queen, her knife still at the man’s throat. “He deserves to die.”

Daenerys was once more caught in those grey eyes, but she wasn’t mesmerized too long this time.

“That is not your decision to make, Arya of House Stark. I am Daenerys Targaryen Stormborn, rightful queen of the Andals. If and when this man dies is up to me. Drop your weapon and release him. Now!”

Arya watched as the queen talked, and could see the powerful woman meant business. For a moment, she wanted to defy her. She knew she was going to die either way, so why not take a Lannister with her?

But then she remembered the other part of her mission, and how making the queen hate the Stark name now would ruin their chance that she would help them take one the White Walkers.

So she reluctantly dropped the knife, and let go of Jaime, giving him a dirty look the whole time.

Daenerys was surprised, although she hid it well. She had suspected that the wolf would talk back, or simply ignore her order, and that they would need violence to be able to stop her. The fact that this wasn’t the case was welcome, but it made her even more wary of the girl.

“Guards,” the queen said, trying to get control of the situation again. “Take this man to a cell. I will decide what to do with him later. Until then” she quickly continued, seeing the look on Tyrion’s face, “he must not be harmed.” She could see Tyrion looking at her gratefully, and went on.

“Aggo, you and your men check the rest of the castle. When you come upon servants, tell them there is a change in bosses, and that they are welcome to either continue working here or leave the castle forever.”

The queen went on like this for a while, giving orders while she went to sit on the iron throne – her throne.

Men came and went, told to either protect the city, send ravens, get the dead bodies out of the throne room or anything else Daenerys had planned to do when she finally took the throne.

All the while, Arya looked on from the side, flanked by two Unsullied who watched her every move. Standing was starting to become difficult for her, with all the blood she had lost she was closer to fainting that anything else, but she refused to show weakness and continued to stand all the same, her posture as proud as she could manage while she watched the first moments of the new queen’s reign.

_Damn it all.. What is taking her so long? Why doesn’t she just end it already?_

Daenerys was indeed taking a long time, and the longer she waited, the more she saw the young wolf’s shoulders sag.

 _Good…_ the queen thought. It wasn’t that she was particularly cruel, or that she wanted the girl to die from the loss of blood. But the Stark girl’s attitude would make it hard to get the information she needed out of her. She hoped a bit of suffering would loosen her tongue.

So she continued leading her country, until at some point she heard Tyrion clear his throat and nodded his head at the girl. When she saw Arya was swaying side to side, she knew it was finally time to have a long-awaited talk.

“Guards, bring the girl.”

From a distance, she could see a flicker in the girl’s eyes, but her face soon went back to a steel mask when the Unsullied practically carried her to kneel in front of the queen.

To Daenerys’ surprise, even though the girl was obviously in pain, her face was still as schooled and defiant as it was right after she had slit Cersei’s throat.

“Arya Stark, you have infiltrated my army, you have lied to me, pretending to be someone else to get close to me. You have done things that helped me, sure, but your actions could also have ruined all that we have worked for. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have you killed right now?”

The queen was all righteous fury as she talked, and she expected the girl to beg for her life, possibly even reminding her that she had saved her life.

What she didn’t expect, was for the girl to cock her head to the side and smile at her.

“There are none, your Grace.”

The Queen was shocked, and from the corner of her eye she could see that Tyrion was as well.

“Arya, please,” Tyrion’s voice was soft, as if he was trying to talk down a wild animal, “there must be something you can say that will make the queen spare your life? You are much too young to die, don’t you fear death?”

Arya looked at him. “ _Valar morghulis_ , Imp. All men must die.” She looked at Daenerys again. “Your queen said it like it is, I pretended to be someone else to get close to her. In this, my reasons for doing so do not matter. The crime on its own is enough to get me killed, I knew this when they sent me here…”

“’They’ sent you? Who is they? And why did they send you?” Daenerys was intrigued by the girl’s disregard for her own death, but she needed to know more about the girl’s mission before she could make a decision about whether or not this would be the end of her.

Arya sighed, contemplating her next words for a moment. On the one hand, she wanted to refuse to talk, to get it all over with right now. On the other hand, though, she knew that if she could say the right things, the queen might be more inclined to help her siblings when the time came.

So going against her defiant instinct, she looked the queen square in the eyes with a serious face and answered.

“I was sent here by my siblings, your Grace, the current… leaders” Arya was careful enough not to call her brother a king, “of the North. They needed someone to help you claim your rightful throne, someone with knowledge of the streets of King’s Landing and someone with a special skill set to help you in battle. I knew I would be the best person for the job, so here I am… And here _you_ are.”

Arya’s breathing was getting more labored while she talked, but both she and the queen ignored it.

“But why?” Daenerys answered, purposefully ignoring the part where the young wolf insinuated that she should be thanking her, “Why would your King in the North – the name I know your brother Jon really goes by – want me to take the throne? Is it because he believes I will be easier to overthrow? Because if that is the case, I can tell you right now –“

“That was not the reason, your Grace,” Arya quickly interrupted before the queen got riled up entirely. She took a deep breath before she continued, making sure that her eyes looked as truthful as possible when she made eye contact with the Mother of Dragons once more. “My brother is indeed called ‘King in the North’, but not by choice. The only reason he took on the title was so that he could once more unite the Northern Houses, and nothing else. He has no intention to take what is rightfully yours, I assure you.”

Daenerys was not so easily swayed. “The North is also rightfully mine. Can you give me your word that he will immediately stand down as King of the North the moment I tell him to?”

Arya shrugged, figuring honesty would be key in this matter. “I cannot give you my word on that your Grace, I cannot promise what my brother will or will not do. What I can promise you is this: my brother does not care much for titles, he only wants his people to be safe. And right now, the only way he can do that is if he has the support of the South.”

The Queen looked puzzled, but before she could speak Tyrion interrupted: “I knew your brother Jon once. A good boy when I met him, and from the stories I have heard he turned out to be a good man.” He said it more to Daenerys than to her, Arya knew, but she let him. For some reason she felt like Tyrion defending her brother might be better than anything she ever said.

“When you say he needed help from the South in order to be able to defend the North, I can understand the reasoning behind getting our Queen Daenerys on the throne. After all, your family and my dearest sister have some… unpleasant history.” Arya wanted to respond angrily to that, but instead she nodded once, allowing the dwarf to continue.

“What I don’t understand is what he needs to defend the North from? From what I’ve heard, the battle with the wildlings was ended thanks to Stannis Baratheon, and the ones that weren’t his enemies became his allies in the battle against the Bolton’s?”

Arya was impressed. She herself had become quite good at gathering information, but the Lannister seemed to be at least as good at it.

“Your information is true, Tyrion Lannister, the free folk, or wildlings as you call them, are no longer a threat. We do not need your help to defeat them, but to kill those who cannot be killed…”

Daenerys looked puzzled at her words, and was about to demand clarification when a sharp intake of breath from Tyrion silenced her.

“Do you mean… the White Walkers? Would they… Did they breach the wall?”

Arya shook her head. “Not yet, not when I left at least. But that was the reason behind my mission: the day I was sent here, my brother had come back from the Wall and found that the magic behind it was being destroyed, and that the Wall is crumbling.”

“Seven hells…” Tyrion said, his eyes large with fear.

Daenerys turned to him, still not entirely understanding the situation.

“Lord Tyrion, what does this mean?”

He gulped, refusing to even look her in the eye for a moment. “If I understand correctly, your Grace, it means that Winter is indeed coming… And that this winter promises to bring death upon all of Westeros…”


	11. Thread

Queen Daenerys sat at the table in what once had been the Small Council’s room, staring at the abundance of papers in front of her.

It had been four days since she had taken the throne, and although she was happy not to have to worry about any upcoming battles for now, she felt like she was made for battle more than she was for these kinds of things.

Ruling Meereen had been one thing, ruling a huge kingdom like Westeros – or trying to – was more complex, more intricate, and especially much more boring.

She hid her annoyance as well as she could, though.

When some Maesters of King’s Landing came to complain, she sacked them politely.

When the Tyrell family came to pledge their allegiance – way too quickly, as if they had sensed a shift in power – she graciously accepted.

When ravens began to arrive from Houses that wanted to swear fealty, she wrote them back kindly.

When ravens began to arrive from Houses that rejected her power and refused to acknowledge her as true queen she wrote them back, kindly remembering them that she had dragons that could easily lay waste to all of their lands and castles.

When even her own Dothraki came to complain about the lack of looting and raping they were allowed to do in the city, she talked them down and gave them a place to let their horses roam free and live a lifestyle more or less similar to the one they had across the Narrow Sea.

Yes, the silver haired queen hid her annoyance well most of the time. The only time she slipped up was when Tyrion tried to talk to her about the Stark girl and her warning.

As he was trying to do right now.

Daenerys continued staring at a piece of parchment that summed up the food supplies that were left in the Red Keep, while Tyrion sat in front of her at the table, clearing his throat.

“Ahem… Your Grace, if we could perhaps…” He tried once more, the third time in the past half hour.

Daenerys put her hand up and shook her head, her eyes never leaving the very interesting paper in front of her.

“Just one moment, lord Tyrion. I really must finish this letter.”

The excuse had worked before, but as she heard the dwarf sigh, she knew her time was up.

“Yes, your Grace, I’m sure that summary of grain supplies is very interesting, but it is also the same one you were reading this morning, so I do hope it has sunk in by now.”

Daenerys sighed, hiding an eyeroll as she put down the paper and focused on Tyrion.

The man looked at her as if he knew all along what game she’d been playing, his eyebrows high as he smiled smugly.

“Wonderful, I thank you for your time, your Grace. Now, if we could perhaps discuss the impending doom of your kingdom…”

This time, Daenerys did roll her eyes. Ever since the Stark girl had told them about the Wall falling and the dead coming for all of Westeros, Tyrion hadn’t stopped pestering her about it.

“Lord Tyrion, I appreciate your concern for my realm, but as I told you before, I see no reason to believe the words of a girl that has only ever lied to us about events that are so unlikely they can’t possibly be true, and I do not understand why _you_ actually do.”

Tyrion sighed and put his hand to his head in exasperation. “Your Grace, I am aware of your reservations towards the girl, but I-“

“Reservations?” Daenerys scoffed. “That girl is a daughter of Ned Stark, the Usurper that aided in killing King Aerys II and on top of that she is part of an elite organization of assassins and has used at least one different appearance in which she was able to get close to me! I have _more_ than just reservations.”

“And you are right to have them, I would not argue that…” Tyrion quickly intervened. They had had too many similar conversations already, and he had already heard most of her objections. “But despite that, and even despite the fact that she did help us win this war – no matter how you look at it, she did, your Grace – if what she said is true, all of Westeros would be in grave danger.”

“But why would it be true?” the queen questioned, as she had these past few days. “The girl’s words are the only things we have. She said her siblings would send a raven explaining the situation and asking for help, but they have not yet. Did you not say that the only reason you believed her was because this Jon Snow was a man that could be trusted wholeheartedly?”

Tyrion nodded, his eyes down as he grimaced. He knew what was about to follow, but he still answered reluctantly. “I did say that, your Grace, and-“

“There is no ‘and’, lord Tyrion.” Daenerys looked him straight in the eyes, knowing that she had him now. “Thus far, we have not heard anything from House Stark. No raven , no messenger, not even the slightest sign of life. If this was truly a dire situation, they would have long sent word about it. Until they do, I will hear no more of this ‘impending doom’. Is that clear?”

The dwarf grumbled, but he nodded regardless. Unfortunately, her logic was sound. He didn’t really understand why Arya Stark’s words had messed him up this much. He remembered going to the Wall, and writing all these stories off as children’s tales.

He had since then seen things, though. The queen’s own dragons had been able to make him see that sometimes the impossible could be possible.

And not just that; it felt like the entire enterprise had gone too easy. Since they had come to Westeros, they had had success after success. Something seemed off about it, and when the Stark girl suddenly brought up a new threat… Well, safe to say that the Wall crumbling down and the dead attacking felt a lot more likely to him than Daenerys being able to take the kingdom without any hiccups.

He was about to point this out to the queen, when the door opened and Missandei walked through with some servants in tow.

“Your Grace, you have not eaten since this morning, so I had the servants prepare a meal for you.”

Missandei didn’t ask a question, and Daenerys knew it meant that the girl really expected her to eat now, so she didn’t try to send them away and simply nodded.

“Thank you, Missandei, please send them in.”

She was grateful for the interruption, and gladly watched as the servants cleared the table en set out the food, successfully silencing Tyrion as they brought in the wine.

As usual, Missandei ate with them. For a few days, the girl had been somewhat nervous about sitting in the small council room with them, but after Daenerys had explicitly invited her to join them, she began to eat with them automatically again.

They began talking amiably, and Daenerys was glad the young translator was always able to take her mind off her worries.

Of course, there was Tyrion on the other hand, who enjoyed putting her mind back on those worries.

“So Missandei,” he said after some time eating in silence, “Have you gone to see the girl yet today? How was she doing?”

The queen rolled her eyes again in annoyance, as she had done these past few days when Tyrion asked this question.

She wanted to focus on getting her realm in order and had decided to ignore the girl for the time being. Possibly until the wolf rotted away in her cell and the problem solved itself.

Tyrion, unfortunately, very clearly disagreed with this decision.

After the Stark girl’s revelation a few days prior, Daenerys had ordered her men to search her and lock her up in a cell.

If it were up to her, that would have been it, and she wouldn’t have thought about the girl until days, or even weeks after.

But Tyrion had insisted that the girl at least deserved a bucket of water to wash up in, and someone to tend to her wounds.

So, compassionate as she was, the queen had allowed a Maester to go in to patch the girl up.

As she had expected, though, this had not worked out.

She was reluctantly told by Tyrion afterwards, who had been standing in the cell to try and talk to the girl while she was being treated, that the girl had refused to let the Maester touch her, that she had gotten into a fit, stole the needles and thread and some medicine the man was carrying and that he had ran out of there, swearing that he would never come close to that girl again.

Daenerys had though that that would have been the end of that, but apparently the little wolf was tougher than she looked and had been able to take care of her own wounds.

Which was why now, four days later, Tyrion still tried to bring up the girl every once in a while, just so Daenerys couldn’t forget about her.

“She is quiet, but seems in better health than yesterday, lord Tyrion,” Missandei answered, purposefully not looking at her queen. “She is mostly lying down, when we bring water and food she still ignores the food but gets up to get the water.”

Tyrion nodded at the information. “Good, that’s a good sign… And have you talked to her yet, like I asked you to? Does she seem feverish? Like she is hallucinating?”

Missandei glanced at the queen for a moment and shook her head. “Erm, I have not, lord Tyrion…”

The dwarf had seen the glance, but asked anyway. “Really? I specifically asked you to, though, Missandei. Why haven’t you?”

Before the girl answered, Daenerys cut in. “Because I told her not to, Tyrion.”

She looked at him almost defiantly, but he only shook his head in resignation. “Your Grace, may I be frank?”

Daenerys almost laughed at that. “Are you ever not, lord Advisor?”

He bit his tongue not to answer that, and waited for her to answer. At long last, she nodded, motioning him to continue.

“Thank you… Your Grace, I am sorry to say this, but things cannot go on like this. I have made clear that I would prefer to keep the girl alive, and you have made clear that her… crimes cannot be overlooked. In the end, it will be your decision, and as your loyal servant I will of course accept whatever you decide.”

He took a deep breath as he continued, looking the queen straight in the eyes.

“But, Daenerys, ignoring the problem, putting it in a cell and hoping that the girl will die of her own accord is not a decision. You are the Queen of Westeros. Deciding on the fate of a girl who at the same time betrayed you and saved you might be difficult, but it must be done, and you are the only one who can do it. So please, your Grace, do what needs to be done.”

Daenerys sighed, but didn’t respond right away. She knew Tyrion was right, but that didn’t take away the fact that she simply didn’t weigh the girl’s wrongdoings against the good things she had done.

She wasn’t sure what she was more afraid of: letting an assassin live, or letting her savior die…

Either way, Tyrion was right: she needed to decide right now.

 

* * *

 

Arya was laying on the hard bed, fiddling with the needle as she watched the sun go down through the small window above her.

She sighed as she rolled the needle around her fingers.

This was the fifth nightfall she had seen since the day of the battle.

The fifth nightfall since she had scratched the final people off her list, and her fifth sundown of not knowing what to think about.

For the last 6 years, she had summed up her list night after night, day after day, like a mantra. Sometimes out loud, sometimes simply going over the list in her head.

It had become more than a habit. Doing so had kept her calm, kept her focused, … It had kept her mind from going to the dark place that was her memory, and it had given her a purpose in life.

Now, though, it was just her and her thoughts, in the castle where she had lost it all.

She stung herself with the needle again, something she did every time her thoughts became too personal.

The first few days she had been able to sleep, her wounds taking their toll. She had patched them up somewhat alright, though. Sowing might not have been her favorite pastime as a child, she was at least able to get an almost decent stitching going in her side and her arm.

Thanks to the Maester’s very generous ‘gift’, she had even gotten some antiseptic to take care of the infection. It didn’t stop her from feeling like shit the first days, but at least she hadn’t died.

_It would have been easier if I had, though…_ She thought, quickly cutting herself off with another sting from the needle.

She tried to think about what to do next, instead.

Going back to Winterfell wasn’t an option: she knew she didn’t belong there anymore. Her brothers and sister were still the pure Starks they had been when they were children. Her siblings had gone through great hardships as well, but they didn’t turn to darkness like she had.

_They don’t need me…_ She had told herself when she left.

Arya had of course told her sister that she would return ‘alive and well’, but she hadn’t meant it. Sansa would understand that she couldn’t stay, she was sure of it. Bran would too, of course, with all his knowledge.

_And Jon…_

Her heart hurt the most when she thought of Jon. She loved all of her siblings, of course, but Jon was special.

She stung herself with the needle again as she grew sad, thinking about her own Needle.

The blade Jon had given her when she was 9 was her favorite possession. A treasure she had hauled across half of Westeros and even across the Narrow Sea.

But this time, she had decided not to take it with her. On the one hand, the blade would not have fit the Unsullied she was pretending to be. And on the other hand, she felt like she had outgrown it.

The girl Needle was once made for, the girl who called it Needle to mock her sister, the girl who had run after cats in King’s Landing, who had practiced water dancing like it was a game was no more.

So it had felt right to leave the sword in Winterfell, together with the heart of the girl she had once been…

Her thoughts were going dark again, a sadness threatening to wash over her, as if telling her she should never have left the blade, or Winterfell, that she could still go back and be the girl she once was again.

So she stung herself again, forcing her to think of other things.

Like the needle in her hand.

_I could get out of here_ , she thought, eyeing the sharp object. _I could wait for a guard, or call one, shove the needle in his eye and grab his sword and the keys… I know my way around this castle better than these soldiers, I would be out before they even know it… Maybe I could go back to Braavos, join the Faceless Men again… My mission here is over, perhaps now is the time to become No One once and for all._

She was pulled from her thoughts when she heard footsteps coming down the hallway.

_This is it_ , she thought, holding the needle tight, _now is as good a time as any. I can play dead, let the guard come in to check on me, overpower him and run._

As the footsteps grew closer, she still didn’t move a muscle.

_Or I could hide next to the door, wait for him to come in and attack him from behind._

But even as she thought this, she just continued to lie down, her body not following the many scenarios playing in her mind.

_Or I could just give up and die…_

“You do not die easy, do you, wolf girl?”

Arya finally looked up when she heard the familiar voice, only to see Queen Daenerys’ bright eyes staring at her through the bars of her cell door.


	12. Today

_“You do not die easy, do you, wolf girl?”_

Daenerys looked into the cell, her face a cool mask as she examined the young woman.

A flicker indicated that the girl’s eyes were on her now, but besides that she hadn’t moved a muscle.

The queen subtly looked around, seeing an empty pouch that probably once held the Maester’s healing herbs, an empty bucket and cup and a full plate of food.

_Sick or stubborn?_ She thought as her eyes scanned the girl now, eyeing the slacks she was wearing as well as the still bloodcovered undershirt.

She had of course ordered to take away the Unsullied armor the girl was wearing, and this must have been what she had been wearing underneath of it.

It did look like her prisoner had tried to clean herself up a bit, but with just the one bucket of water Daenerys supposed that wasn’t enough to get rid of it all. She briefly wondered whether the blood was still a remnant from the battle or the Stark’s own, but she quickly decided she didn’t care when she heard the girl answer.

“Disappointed, your Grace?”

The queen’s eyebrow’s went up quickly, to Arya’s pleasure.

The wolf girl had been surprised to see the queen staring at her from outside her cell, but kept her face a cool mask. She definitely hadn’t expected that the woman would ever come down to see her again.

She had an idea though, of why the woman was here. It had been 5 days since she had taken of her Face and killed Cersei Lannister, ignoring the Dragon Queen’s direct orders.

Yeah, Arya was pretty sure she knew why the ruler of Westeros had come down to her cell, she just wasn’t sure how to feel about this being her final day.

Should she be scared? Nervous? Sad?

Or thrilled in a way she couldn’t explain..?

_What do we say to the God of Death?_

The young Stark girl’s mind was racing, but she stopped herself soon enough. Her thoughts were going back to going back to Braavos, and she figured she could escape easy enough if she killed the queen now, but what would be the point of that?

So she simply laid there on the bed, motionless, her grey eyes impassive as she waited for the Queen to continue.

The young wolf’s words had somewhat shocked Daenerys, although she tried to conceal her emotions. With the way the girl was laying there, unmoving, the queen thought she was still severely injured, weak even.

The response she got, though, sounded strong, confident, in control even despite the situation the younger woman was in.

“It is surprising,” she finally said, ignoring the Stark girl’s answer as she straightened her back, “that you are still alive. After all, you assaulted the Maester I so graciously sent to heal you, and have not accepted any food in days. Almost as if you truly wanted to die, and yet here you are, apparently patched up and even making snide remarks. Tell me, why did you decide to fix yourself up after all?”

Arya half-grinned at that. “Force of habit, I suppose…”

Daenerys thought it was a strange thing to say, and she swore that she could see a sadness in those grey eyes, but she willed herself not to see it. Looking into those eyes made her feel a connection to this person, as it had made her feel a connection to Frog, and she did not want to feel any connection to this traitor.

So she simply went on, smiling as she looked at the girl through the prison bars.

“Well, it seems to have been a foolish habit, then. The only reason I left a traitor like you alive is because you said you were sent by your relatives to help me, because of some army of the dead that was supposed to attack my kingdom?”

When the girl just looked at her from the cot she was laying in without any emotion, Daenerys continued. “You said your brother and sister, who are now more or less ‘King and Queen in the North’ would send word of these occurrences, and would ask for my help.” The woman cocked her head as she continued. “And here we are, five days later, and we still haven’t heard from them. If what you said were true, and the situation was really that dangerous, they should have sent something already, shouldn’t they?”

Again, her words were met with silence and a blank face.

“In other words, you did not only lie when you took the face of one of my men, but you also lied about the reason why you were here. I do not know yet what your intentions were when you betrayed me, or if it was simply because you come from a family of traitors, like your father, but this is the end of it.”

This time, Arya could no longer stay silent.

“So you are sentencing me to death because you believe me to be a traitor? The person who saved-“

“Yes, you may have saved my life indeed,” Daenerys interrupted her quickly, already knowing the wolf would say this, “but I paid you back in kind by sending someone to treat your wounds. You didn’t let him treat you, but I still consider my debt to you to be paid.”

She was surprised to see the Stark huff slightly at the last statement.

_“Lie.”_

The girl had said it quietly, but in the small cell it was hard for Daenerys to miss it.

“Excuse me,” she said, her arms crossed now as she frowned. For the first time in their conversation, she could see the girl get up slightly, supporting herself on her elbows as she looked the other woman straight in the eyes now.

“Pardon me… Lie, _your Grace_ ” Arya said, putting the emphasis on the last part as she smiled smugly.

Daenerys was starting to get angry now. “I did not lie, I did send that Maester to you, and if you hadn’t assaulted him, he _would_ have healed you.”

She could see the girl shake her head in amusement. “Perhaps, but you did lie about considering ‘your debt to me paid’. You can’t even make yourself believe that.”

Arya’s grey eyes were shining with some kind of twisted amusement at the situation, which riled Daenerys up even more.

“You dare call me a liar?! I am Daenerys Targaryen Stormborn, Queen of Westeros, and you are a wolf from the traitor House Stark. On top of that, you’re a killer, an assassin who will kill anyone for a bit of money. You do not get to call me anything. You do not even deserve to live.”

The queen looked at her prisoner, her head high and her mind made up.

This girl did _not_ deserve her mercy.

So Daenerys nodded to herself and was about to leave when she saw her prisoner move suddenly, making her breath hitch. The girl was slowly beginning to stand up, her eyes an impossibly dark color and her wolfish grin growing.

With an elegance that she didn’t expect from a severely injured girl, she could see Arya stalk towards her slowly, in a very predatory way.

“So kill me, then.”

They were at arm’s length now, and it took everything in the silver-haired woman not to take a step back.

Before she could answer her, the girl went on.

“You have already decided… Or at least, you’d like to make yourself believe that you have… But you won’t do it yourself, will you? No, I guess not, that’s not how the great Queen Daenerys does things… She has people to do these things for her.” The young wolf licked her lips. “To _kill_ for her.”

This could easily be one of her final moments, so the younger woman decided to savor it, and set some things straight while she was at it.

Arya had decided for herself that death didn’t scare her, that this was the right time for her to die. She was ready to become nameless again, in whatever way the queen chose. She could handle that thought.

What she couldn’t deal with was how this woman kept dragging her family through the mud.

Acting all high and mighty, as if her family had been perfect.

Calling the Starks traitors, when all of Westeros knew they were the most loyal of houses.

No, Arya was done with this woman.

“You d-“ the queen tried to interject, but Arya continued.

“I dare, yes. My father always said that the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. But you don’t do things, like that, do you? You call other people traitors and tell someone to kill them, and that solves your problems.”

Daenerys huffed. “If you are trying to pretend like you are not a traitor-“

“There is no pretending. I betrayed your trust, sure, and if you want to kill me for that, then you can go right ahead. After all, you are the queen, and lying to the queen is punishable by death. So if you would simply sentence me to death because of this, it would be fine by me..”

Arya got even closer to the bars. Even though she was the one in a cell, she felt as though she was cornering the other woman. The queen’s bright eyes were widening as she inched forward, and the young wolf knew she had her where she wanted.

Her voice grew even deeper as she continued.

“But you continue to call me a traitor, hell, you even refer to my entire family as traitors. Even though neither my family nor I have ever betrayed you..”

“Your father-“ Daenerys tried, but Arya smiled as she shook her head.

“My father stopped a man who was going to murder everyone in his city. I suppose to you he might have been a traitor, but not to the rest of the realm. He is gone, though, and his actions are not mine. My siblings have never betrayed you, and if you truly think about it, neither have I.”

Arya bent down a bit as she put her hands to her face, changing it once more to Frog’s.

“This was my betrayal”, she continued with the young man’s voice, pleased with the silver-haired woman’s shocked reaction. “My only lie was about my identity. All I did was betray your trust. Besides that, though, I killed the commanding Lannister officers in your first battle. I scouted around King’s Landing to find you a way in, and I did. I promised you the perfect execution of my plan, and I did execute it perfectly. I promised to get you on the Iron Throne, and I did…”

Daenerys looked on mesmerized as the girl moved her hands across her face again, changing it back to her own, her eyes never changing. They almost stood nose to nose now, Arya moving closer by the second, and the queen too proud to back away.

“… So you see, all I ever did was what I promised. No betrayal, just one lie. You can kill me for that lie if you wish, I don’t care.” Her grey eyes grew hard as they burned into the violet ones. “But don’t call me or my family traitors. My siblings don’t deserve that.”

The mother of dragons was still staring at her, at a loss for words. How this girl was able to reverse their roles so quickly was beyond her.

She knew the girl was right in a way. She did everything she had promised to do, and everything she did helped the queen win this war. If she could believe it, the young wolf was even the reason why they had won their first big battle.

The problem was, though, the believing. This young woman had betrayed her trust, and the more she felt like she could believe her, the more it made her think that everything was an act. That this was the girl’s way of trying to get the queen to feel sorry for her, to let her live, or even release her.

_I will not be played_. The older woman clenched her jaw.

“Very well then, as you wish. I will have you killed for lying to me, for pretending to be another while attempting to get close to me. Tomorrow, my man will take your head.”

She watched the girl nod and her smile grow softer.

_Good…_

Getting the queen to not think of her family as traitors was important to her, and her acknowledgement of killing her simply for lying was exactly what she had hoped for. Arya might not feel like a true Stark anymore, the Stark name still meant more to her than anything she had ever owned.

She looked down for a moment, thinking back about her siblings. About the goodbyes she should have given them.

When she looked up, she noticed that the Queen was staring at her, a surprised look on her face.

_Shit…_ Arya thought, immediately concealing her emotions behind her steel mask once more.

Before Daenerys could say anything, the younger woman let her smile grow darker again, getting back into her comfort zone… the Queen’s discomfort zone.

“So I was right? You have no intention of swinging the sword yourself, then. But you will enjoy watching, won’t you?”

She was excited to see the silver-haired woman’s face shift from empathy to annoyance. There was something about her reactions that just gave Arya a thrill. She had enjoyed talking to the queen back when she was Frog, sure, but back then she’d had to hold back.

Right now, though, she could do whatever she wanted.

She was a dead woman, after all.

The queen answered defiantly. “No, I will not. Unlike what you might think, _I_ for one do not enjoy watching people die.”

Arya’s smile grew even bigger. “Another lie, your Grace. “

_This is too much fun._

This time, Daenerys’ held back her anger, and chose to simply arch her eyebrows. “Are you saying I do enjoy watching people get killed? I am not dark like you, wolf. I find no pleasure in this at all.”

“You lie again. You really are not very good at the game of faces, your Grace.” Arya smiled more softly, although a wicked look was still in her eyes, cocking her head to the right as she continued. “I can see it in you, though, and I have heard stories… About masters being crucified in the streets, ships being burned, killing the Unsullied’s masters the moment you bought them…”

The queen’s eyes grew wider as Arya continued. Her time spent with the queen’s army had taught her many things about their ruler.

“Those deaths were all necessary. These people were a danger to my people, so I had them killed to make an example of them. All wars have casualties, Stark, it does not mean I enjoyed any of their deaths.”

Daenerys thought that was the end of it, but she was scared to see that the girl’s eyes grew even darker.

“And what of your brother?”

Her heartbeat sped up as the girl spoke, and she clenched her teeth together.

“You can try to deny it all you want, your Grace, but I can see it in your eyes.” Arya rolled her neck, cocking her head to the other side now. “I heard about how your brother sold you to a Khal, how he abused you, how he used you, and how you finally had your husband give him a golden crown.”

Arya’s eyes glowed as she continued. She had particularly enjoyed this story when she had heard it. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you? The irony of it all? How he screamed in pain? Seeing the life drain out of his body?”

Daenerys couldn’t believe what this girl was saying, but her words did make her remember that night.

And the girl was right, she had enjoyed it.

The queen didn’t answer, though, she simply tried to keep her face as collected as she could, trying not to let her anger seep through.

“I would have enjoyed it.” Arya smiled as she came even closer, looping her arms through the prison bars, casually leaning against them. “If my older brother had done anything like that to me, I would have enjoyed watching him die too. Unfortunately, my older brother was an amazing person, and watching his death was…”

Arya stopped suddenly, her eyes glazed over as she stared at nothing, lost in her memories.

Daenerys was once more surprised by the sudden shift in moods. The look in the girl’s eyes struck her immensely. Despite everything the younger woman had said, the queen couldn’t help but feel for her.

“Your older brother… Robb?” She pieced everything together. “Were you… were you at the Red Wedding?”

The silver-haired woman almost wanted to reach forward, touch the girl, but she stopped herself. Although she might have empathy for this person, there was still no way she could possibly trust her.

Arya, for her part, looked up, the wicked grin gone from her face, but the darkness still present in her eyes.

“I was. I saw them kill my brother’s direwolf. I saw them parade his body around with his head cut off, the wolf’s head placed on his body instead…”

_Good Gods_ , Daenerys thought. “But that was years ago… How old were you? You couldn’t have been over 13 years old…”

Arya shrugged. “11, 12… Who cares. Bad things happen to everyone.”

This time, the older woman didn’t hold back and reached out to touch the girl’s hand.

“That’s horrible… I’m sorry that happened to you.”

The young wolf looked puzzled for a moment, staring at the pristine white hand that was touching her still dirty one. After a few seconds, she pulled back quickly, as if she had been burned.

Her smile went wicked again.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. They were true traitors. And they got what they deserved…”

Daenerys frowned. Then it hit her. “They were on your list, I take it?”

Arya nodded, still smiling. “They were. And they were the first lives I took when I came back to Westeros.”

The queen didn’t want to know, and yet… she had to understand…

“How?”

The girl stepped back a bit, holding onto the bars so tight her knuckles went white.

“I disguised myself as a cupbearer. A pretty one. Then I seduced Walder Frey’s sons, lured them with me to a quiet place,” the grey eyes went impossibly dark, “and then I killed them, cut them into little pieces so I could make a nice meal out of them. Then I fed it to their father… And once he had eaten, I told him about the… ingredients.”

Daenerys was shocked, but silent as she watched the girl close her eyes and continue. “The look on his face was priceless. Even more so when I took on my own face, told him my name, and slit his throat… The fear in his eyes, the realization that he would finally pay for his crimes…”

“Did it make you happy?” the silver-haired woman couldn’t help herself, she had to ask. After all these years, after everything she had been through, this girl was the first person in a long while that was able to give her clammy hands.

It wasn’t fear, though. Not really. A nervousness, yes, a waryness… And an intrigue she couldn’t explain.

She watched the girl open her eyes again, a slight frown on her face as she cocked her head slightly to the right.

“Happy?” Arya laughed, an empty laugh that sounded strange in the small space they were in. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? Happiness doesn’t exist. It was made up by storytellers and singers to make people believe in something. I would have thought that you of all people would have realized this by now, your Grace.”

The Queen shook her head. “How can you say such a thing? If not for moments of happiness, why continue living?”

Arya shrugged, a halfsmile on her face and a sadness in her eyes that Daenerys could only barely make out. “For revenge.”

“And now?” Daenerys was mesmerized by those sad grey eyes.

The girl shrugged again, backing away from the door and back to her cot.

“Like I said… force of habit.” She grinned again. “Luckily, you will rid me of that habit soon enough.”

Arya turned around then and laid back down on the bed, stifling a groan she hoped the queen couldn’t hear.

Daenerys sighed, her mind racing. This conversation was too much, this girl was entirely too much for her to handle.

She had wanted to kill her. She came here, determined to sentence the girl to death.

She didn’t even need to feel guilty for it, the girl herself wanted to die.

And yet she had seen it. The person behind the façade, behind the mask.

It had been just a glimpse, sure, a small moment of true emotion hidden beneath the darkness.

But it was enough for Daenerys. Or in this case, it was too much.

“Unfortunately,” the Queen spoke up, straightening herself again as she addressed the prisoner, “I have to tell you that you will not be killed just yet.” She watched as the girl almost jumped off the bed, the movement obviously too much for her still weakened body to handle. “So heal up, wolf girl… We will see each other again soon enough.”

And ignoring Arya’s protests behind her, Daenerys walked away.


	13. Audience

The small cell was well-lit by the afternoon sun, making it look almost inviting, but its only inhabitant was sitting against the floor in the shadows.

For what must’ve been the thousandth time that day, Arya flicked the needle up and caught it again, her mind completely empty as she did so.

It had been a week.

A week since the Queen had come to her cell and announced that she wouldn’t kill her.

The young wolf still couldn’t quite comprehend it. She was sure the Mother of Dragons would finally sentence her to death, and that that would’ve been it.

And yet here she was, still in her cell, waiting for… nothing at all.

Arya sighed deeply, as she had done multiple times since that day, holding the needle in her hand for a moment, studying it.

_I could escape now…_ she thought, as she had many times the days before. _I could take out a guard and get out of here before they even noticed._

The escape would be easier now: the queen had arranged for more medicine to be brought to her, and even a tub of water and a change of clothes and bandages, so she felt a lot better.

She hadn’t completely healed up, of course, but the Stark girl didn’t think that would matter. She still knew the palace and city better than any of the queen’s men, so getting out shouldn’t be a problem.

No, the reason why she hadn’t left yet had nothing to do with her abilities.

She just… Didn’t know where to go.

For the past few days, she went over all the possibilities again and again.

_I could go back to Braavos, to the Faceless Men … But I don’t think I could ever truly be no one…_

_I could go back to Winterfell… I could help them with the White Walkers, fight alongside Jon and kill some of those dead things… But I just can’t face them again. I can never be who they want me to be, I can never be anything but a killer anymore, and they’ll hate me for it… I can’t live with that…_

_Or I could just wander around… Find out what exactly_ is _west of Westeros… But then what?_

These thoughts milled through her mind day in day out. She tried to stop them sometimes, finding something else to do with her hands, like flipping the needle up or tossing her water cup around, but in the end she couldn’t keep her mind empty.

She thought of every option over and over again, imagining what would happen if she chose any of them. In the end, though, she could not imagine any option ending well.

So here Arya still was, locked up, getting more restless by the hour, needle at the ready when she heard footsteps approach her cell.

She was immediately put on alert and had her needle ready, contemplating on whether or not she would take her chance this time.

But as the sound of footsteps grew closer, her determination faded, as it had every other time before this.

The girl sighed again and relaxed once more against the cool wall, her eyes closed as she calmed her breathing.

When she looked up again, she saw Grey Worm and two other Unsullied at her cell door, unlocking it.

Arya frowned at this.

_This is new…_

Grey Worm never came to her cell, which immediately indicated to her that something must be going on.

As the men walked in, Arya stayed down on the floor, unmoving, her grey eyes staring them down.

“Arya of House Stark, the Queen wants to speak with you. Hold out your hands.”

The Unsullied held out a set of handcuffs, waiting for her to stand up.

The young wolf hesitated. This could be her moment, her chance to escape. They all had their swords sheathed, apparently not expecting her to fight them in any way.

_Fools._

She could be out in seconds if she wanted to…

But Arya simply sighed and put her hands out. She just couldn’t see any reason to escape right now.

The Unsullied pulled her to her feet, keeping hold of her elbows as they pushed her out the cell and into the hallway.

Following Grey Worm’s fast pace, Arya could feel that her body hadn’t moved too much in the past 12 days. She kept up, though, trying her best not to show the weakness she felt.

It became harder to hide her emotions when they entered the throne room.

She had expected that only the queen and her usual crew would be there, so she was shocked to find out that the men had just walked her into a throne room full of people.

As they stopped in front of the throne’s platform, Grey Worm and the two other men stepped back slightly, giving her a bit more space although they didn’t uncuff her and obviously still watched her very closely.

Arya looked up to inspect the room, her gaze immediately pulled to the queen.

Daenerys Targaryen looked more regal than Arya had ever seen her, her silver robe making her light up the throne room more than it ever had been, and her new golden crown with small dragon-like details making it clear to anyone that she was the true ruler of Westeros.

The young wolf was impressed by what she saw, but she didn’t let it show, her grey eyes defiantly locking with the queen’s violet ones.

She didn’t get much response from those eyes either, though. Daenerys slightly raised her eyebrows at the girl’s steeled features, and directed herself to the rest of the people.

“My lords, I present to you lady Arya Stark of Winterfell.. My prisoner.”

At her words, Arya finally looked around the room.

Behind the Queen she could see Missandei and Tyrion, and on either side of the room there were lords, whose sigils she now recognized.

_House Rosby, Wendwater, Cressey, Stokeworth, Thorne,… All southern lords, it seems… Although, isn’t that green wave-sigil from House Upcliff in the Vale? Yes, it must be, and some from the iron islands as well…_

The young wolf wondered about this for a moment. She had assumed that her siblings had already sent word by now, and that the queen simply didn’t tell her about this.

But according to that logic, at least someone from the North should have been here. And yet, even when she looked behind her to the rest of the room, she could not find a single Northern House.

_What has happened? Did the Wall fall already? Have the White Walkers attacked? Are they at war?_

_Are they okay?_

Her mind was racing, she could feel her heartbeat speeding up as well, but when the queen spoke again she forced herself to calm down and focus.

“You may wonder why I have called you all here at this time.” Arya could see a few of the lords grumble at these words, and she knew the Mother of Dragons must also have heard them, but she went on regardless. “You have all _graciously_ sworn your allegiance to me, and I would have let you leave earlier, but an important message has reached me today which needs all of our attention.”

When Tyrion stepped forward to pass the queen a piece of parchment, the young Stark’s breath hitched when she recognized the seal.

_That’s…_

She knew her face definitely betrayed her shock now, but she didn’t care. She had to know what happened.

“We received this letter this morning. It is a message from Jon of House Stark…” Daenerys paused for a moment, looking around the room as she went on. “The current king of the North.”

The lords did not disappoint, their reactions going from simple shock to anger.

“How dare he!“ “Who does he think he is-“ “Why are we called here for a letter from that traitor?!”

Daenerys immediately put her hand up to silence them, but the lord of Cressey was the one who asked the last question, continuing to speak even when everyone else was already silenced.

The queen ignored it though, and went on. “Lord Jon Snow sent the letter himself, and he explains in it that he has no intention to keep the title of King of the North for himself. In fact…” She showed a second piece of parchment that was included with the letter, “he even sent us this treaty, signed by the remaining Northern Houses to swear their fealty to us…”

The energy in the room changed immediately, the lords mumbling among themselves now.

Arya stared at the queen, puzzled. She wanted to know more, wanted to understand what was going on, but the queen opted to let the room speak for a moment and didn’t continue straight away.

She caught her gaze for a moment, but the violet eyes were as closed as they could be, not showing any hint of emotion.

Internally, though, Daenerys felt the emotions raging through her.

Ever since they had received the letter, finally, Tyrion and her had been in a massive discussion. As Arya Stark had said, her brother finally asked her for help against the White Walkers.

Apparently the situation was urgent: Jon Snow said they estimated it would only be a month before the huge army of the Night King would  be able to get through the wall. Because of this, he even officially denounced his title as King of the North and went around the land to have all Northern Houses sign their allegiance to her as Queen of Westeros.

On one condition, though, which was the reason behind the argument she and Tyrion had had.

She put her arm up again to continue.

“There is, however, a reason why the North has so easily signed over their allegiance to me…”

She waited for a response, but only lord Cressey mumbled an angry “of course”, the other lords had their full attention on her. Looking in front of her, she could see Arya’s grey eyes piercing through her.

Daenerys had of course noticed that the girl was invested in the letter, her eyes carrying more expression in them than she had seen before. But the queen couldn’t rush this. As Tyrion had made _extremely_ clear to her, the way she put her next words would either get the southern lords to go to war with her, or against her.

“You see, my lords, Westeros is in grave danger… As we speak, the great Wall that has protected us for centuries has begun to crumble… It will still be years before it truly falls, but Jon Snow reports to us that due to magical aid, an army of thousands will be able to come through in less than a month… This would-“

“I don’t see how this is our problem, your Grace, “ Lord Cressey interrupted her. “The North will just have to handle these filthy wildlings as they always have, and leave us out of it.”

The Queen held back an eyeroll, but as she continued her jaw was squared and her voice made sure none in the room could not notice her anger.

“This is _our_ problem, lord Cressey, because we are not talking about wildlings this time. The enemy is far greater and far more dangerous than that, and if we do not assist our Northern _allies_ now, these enemies will soon fight their way south, killing everyone in Westeros.”

She could see shock and even fear among the lords, even in lord Cressey’s eyes, but he still shook his head.

“What enemy could possibly be so powerful that the North can’t handle them on their own?” He weakly asked.

Daenerys swallowed, glancing at her advisor for a moment. When Tyrion nodded, she continued.

 “Currently gathering behind the Wall is the army of the Night King, an army of over 5.000 White Walkers… They are soldiers that are already dead, made up of ice now mostly, and can only be killed with either fire or weapons made from Dragon Glass…”

Once more, the lords reacted immediately, the queen could see that some believed her, some didn’t want to believe her, and others-

“A _fairytale_!? You want us to trust the Northerners and ride North with our troops to fight _a fairytale_?!”

This time, Tyrion was the one who continued.

“This is not a fairytale, lord Cressey. I can assure you, these creatures are very real, and very much a danger to everyone in the realm.”

The lord immediately interrupted, stepping forward as he spoke. “So have you seen one then, lord Hand? Has any of your men?” When they didn’t respond, he directed himself to the other lords. “We have only sworn our allegiance a few days ago, and already our new _ruler_ wants to send our armies away, leaving us weak to attacks and probably sending our army into a Northern trap, chasing after imaginative enemies! Do you all truly agree to this madness?”

Daenerys could see his words had an effect on the other lords, but before she could speak she could hear another voice speak up from the other side of the room.

“Madness it may be, but imaginary they most certainly are not.”

She was surprised to see that Arya had spoken, her eyes a grey mask once more as they focused on the lord Cressey now.

He immediately retaliated. “What would you know, little lady Stark. Have you seen one of them? I didn’t th-“

“I have seen them, yes. Not just one of them, but hundreds, gathering behind the Wall. Behind them I could see thousands marching up to the Wall to join them. And this was already weeks ago, by now they must’ve gathered at the gates, ready to take Westeros and kill us all.”

She had said it so calmly, her face a cool mask, that a shiver went through the room.

“What… How did you know they were really White Walkers, my lady?”

This time another lord had spoken, the defiance in his voice clouded by his obvious fear.

Arya closed her eyes and sighed, and when she looked up they seemed to become even colder.

“You know when you see one, my lord. Their bodies have almost entirely turned to ice… Their hands are like skeletons, as are their faces, and their eyes… Bright blue, the brightest you will ever see, and probably the last thing you will ever see…”

From her throne, Daenerys could see that the girl’s words had the desired effect, and she was glad she had agreed to Tyrion’s idea to call her into this meeting… Although she’d had no idea that the young wolf had actually ever seen any of these creatures, she was happy that the fact they had an eye witness turned the lords around.

Well, most of them at least: in the middle of the room, she could see lord Cressey was still shaking his head. But besides that she could also see the fear in his eyes, as she could in the other lords, so she assumed that if they all followed, he would too.

“This is why, my Lords, we need to act now,” the Queen spoke. “If we don’t act now, the North will fall, and when the White Walkers come for us we will not have enough men or expertise to defeat them. If we act now, however, we can sent part of our army to aid the North, and still have a part left to defend ourselves in case of emergency. I know this is much to ask of you, but this is the only way to keep all of Westeros safe, to keep all of your Houses safe, both in the North and South. So… can I count on you to help save us all?”

The lords nodded now, some more determined than others, but Daenerys was glad to see that her speech worked.

When she looked at lord Cressey, though, she could see a mad look in his eyes as he continued to shake his head.

“Lord Cressey…?” She asked, feeling herself getting angry. “All of us here have agreed that this is for the best of the kingdom, but you. This should not even be an order from me, but something you as a lord should feel obligated to do, for the honour of your own-“

“Fuck honour!” He suddenly shouted, pulling out his sword. “And fuck you, you dragon bitch!”

He raised his blade and started running towards the Queen, who was frozen in place on her throne, her eyes wide with fear as she saw the madness in his.

Daenerys imagined she could feel the sharp blade cutting through her already, but before he could even fully get it up the lord was pulled to a sharp stop… By a needle piercing his eye.

After years of being around mad men, even travelling with one for a while, Arya had noticed the man’s intention pretty quickly.

So the moment lord Cressey took off she was on him, jamming her trusty needle in his eye first, making him drop his sword, to then turn around with the cuffs around his neck, pulling her arms apart roughly, easily breaking his neck.

When the man dropped to the floor, Arya turned around again to take her cuffs from his neck, looking at the distraught queen.

The young wolf grinned, her grey eyes shining darkly as she turned to the other lords.

“Anyone else who wants to fuck the Queen?”


	14. Friend and Foe

Daenerys and Tyrion rushed into the small council room, with Arya ushered in behind them by a few Unsullied.

The events from a few moments before had startled all of them – although the Stark girl seemed to be amused more than anything – but they had to contain their shock so as not to scare the lords even more.

The tired Queen rubbed her hands across her face as she stood at the table, leaning on it and sighing deeply.

“I cannot believe that just happened…” She looked around the room as she spoke, focusing especially on Tyrion. “We were supposed to be past backstabbing lords masters, and yet here we are again! Even in Westeros there is no loyalty!”

Daenerys crossed her arms in a semblance of anger, but in truth she mostly felt protected standing like that.

In front of her, Tyrion went for the wine, pouring both himself and her a cup. He handed it to her, all the while shaking his head.

“Lord Cressey has always been a strange one, your Grace. He’s always disliked authority, even when Robert Baratheon was in power. Honestly, I can’t remember if the man ever contributed in a single battle… Whenever he came along, he and the King simply drank, hunted and whored around, and then Robert forget that he even had need of anything from Cressey…”

“They sound like lovely characters, both of them.” The queen interjected harshly, taking a big gulp of her wine. “Did he expect me to do the same? That I would never ask anything from him and that we’d merely drink, hunt and visit whores together?”

She could hear someone huff at the end of her rant, and was not surprised to see the Stark girl standing on the other side of the room, glancing down with an obvious smile on her face. The two Unsullied next to her, as well as the rest of the room, ignored the sound, and so did Daenerys, although she couldn’t help but take a moment to sneak a look at the girl.

Arya stood at the side of the room against the wall, her handcuffs still tightly secured. The queen could see that the younger woman had some blood on her left hand, which she had stabbed Cressey with, but besides that the girl was cleaner than she had ever seen her – in her real face at least.

“Your Grace-“ she was pulled from her thoughts when Tyrion spoke again. “I understand you are angry about Cressey’s betrayal, and about how he tried to kill you-“

Daenerys’ eyebrow went up. That was an understatement if ever she heard one, but her advisor gave her no time to interrupt.

“But! But if we try to look at it on the bright side… The meeting in itself did not go too bad, your Grace. Besides Cressey you had all the lords on your side even before he attacked. And then after, your prisoner here” he curtly pointed at Arya, who still had a half-grin on her face, “a Stark for that matter, killed the man, they all knew that loyalty is key to survival.”

The queen looked at the smiling girl again for a moment, but continued to ignore her. “And that is a good thing, lord Tyrion?” She asked disbelievingly. “I am an outsider, their queen but an outsider regardless, and one of their own was just killed by my-“

“By your _prisoner_!” Tyrion emphasized the last word. “You were seated at your throne, your men were not on guard because they trusted all those who were present, and when one of their own attacked the queen, he was killed by a Northerner, showing both loyalty from the North and the punishment for disloyalty.”

Daenerys still looked doubtful, but her advisor reassured her easily. “Trust me, your Grace, the outcome of this meeting will have a positive effect on their loyalty. Cressey was a rotten example and he was made into an example without you even needing to do anything. All in all, I would say the meeting was a success. They immediately went home to prepare the men for battle, and by the time we ride to Winterfell and pass their castles, they will see that the Stark girl rides with us as a free woman, to show that loyalty is also rewarded. It will-“

“A free woman, lord Tyrion?” This time the queen had to interrupt him.

_The nerve…_

Tyrion’s speech had surprised her entirely. Of course, she wanted to believe that this disastrous meeting would have a positive outcome, and she was of course glad that her Hand had already analyzed the event this deeply, but the fact that he was already making decisions about _her_ prisoner…

It rubbed her the wrong way.

She could tell that Tyrion noticed her annoyance by the way he suddenly looked like a deer caught in headlights and started stuttering.

“Y-Your Grace, I… I apologize,  I had absolutely no intention to make presumptions… I was simply trying to come up with ways to make the best out of a possibly bad situation… Also…”

He paused, looking at Arya then back at the queen, who was watching him expectantly.

“Yes, lord Hand?”

Tyrion sighed and stepped closer to Daenerys, almost whispering.

“Your Grace… What else will you do with the girl? You have agreed not to kill her when it wasn’t sure she was speaking the truth, and now that it turns out she did speak the truth and that her brother has arranged for the North to vow their allegiance to you… Well, isn’t it almost logical to release her?”

Daenerys sighed, looking behind him toward the girl again.

She knew he was right. Logically, the young wolf was part of a House that had sworn fealty to her, so having her as a prisoner would be wrong. Especially since she had just saved her life – for the second time now.

Yes, logically, releasing her would be the right thing to do.

But something about letting her go free felt wrong to the queen. The younger woman was a trained killer, she had tried to gain her trust disguised as another person… She had not yet betrayed her trust, really, but still…

There was a darkness to those grey eyes that almost scared Daenerys.

Even now, she could see it. The girl was still grinning slightly, her eyes staring straight ahead, but clearly not seeing anything while she fiddled with the bloodied needle.

To keep her alive, sure, but to let her walk freely?

She was once more startled from her thoughts by Tyrion putting his hand on her arm.

His eyes regarded her questioningly, as if to ask her what was on her mind. If she had any reason not to let the girl go.

She sighed and shook her head. “I’m not sure, Tyrion. Logically, yes, you are right… But do you truly believe we can trust her? This is an assassin who can take other people’s faces… She has helped us up till now, but who’s to say she won’t decide to use her abilities against us next time?”

Before her advisor could answer, a voice piped up from the other side of the room.

“I can say that.”

The two turned around to see that Arya was no longer spacing out, but fully invested in their conversation now.

Truth be told, Arya had been listening on the conversation this whole time. Even with just a few sideways glances to the queen, she could tell where the woman’s thoughts were going.

At this point, though, the younger woman didn’t care.

She turned the needle around in her hand, almost feeling the power surge through her. Killing that man had made her feel alive again, a feeling she hadn’t had since she had killed Cersei Lannister.

It wasn’t just the killing though. That was great, as always, but it was more. Seeing the queen in danger, being able to protect her… The woman could pretend she distrusted her all she wanted, the look in those violet eyes when Cressey fell dead to the floor… That’s what made her feel alive more than anything.

So Arya finally decided: if there was one way she could spend the rest of her life, it would be killing to protect… anyone.

Which was why she felt like now was the perfect time to speak up: with the way the Imp and the Queen were discussing things, it seemed like she’d only get out when the White Walkers were already halfway across Westeros. And that did not exactly fit into the Stark girl’s new plans.

She had of course expected the Queen’s shocked reaction, but the younger woman hadn’t expected that she would need to school her features not to show her amusement at the silver-haired woman’s widened eyes.

Swallowing and looking down to hide her starting grin, Arya continued, trying to be as polite as possible.

“Your Grace, if I may speak for myself: I can vow to you that I have no intention on turning against you. We are on the same side now, you have _just_ held a meeting to convince your people to come help my House fight a massive war. I swear, you have nothing to fear from me.”

She was speaking in all honesty this time, but because lying had become her second nature she felt nervous that either Tyrion or the queen would call her out on a lie.

After a moment of silence, though, the short Lannister clapped his hands together, almost happily.

 “Well, that’s settled then.”

Daenerys was shocked out of her stupor by the sound, and now looked at him like he was joking.

Tyrion shrugged. “What…? Your Grace, I understand your reservations, but the fact remains that letting her go would be the best idea in this situation. On top of that, she said she wouldn’t stab us in the back…” He looked at the girl again, studying her. “And from what I saw she spoke true when she said that. I say we might as well give her the benefit of the doubt. But my opinion is of course no more than that. What do you decide, your Grace?”

The queen studied her as well, thinking. After a moment of thought, the only reason she could come up with not to let the Stark girl go was that she had an odd feeling about her.

A reason she felt she couldn’t even say out loud.

So in the end, Daenerys nodded and looked into the girl’s grey eyes.

“Very well then, lady Stark. I hereby release you as my prisoner.”

Arya immediately began to grin, holding her hands up so they could be uncuffed-

“But!” the younger woman stifled a sigh as the queen continued, dropping her hands once more. “Your freedom will have rules. You will stay in the Red Keep for now. No longer in your cell, I will have a room prepared for you and you will be able to move around freely as long as you stay inside the castle. You will have two guards accompanying you at all times,  even on the ride, right until we get to Winterfell. Once there, you will be truly free, so that after the war our paths may never cross again.”

At the end of the queen’s speech, steel grey eyes locked with fiery violet ones.

For some reason, Arya felt a bit betrayed by the last words, but she hid her emotions and simply nodded.

“Agreed.”

And just like that, the cuffs came off and Arya Stark was once more a free woman.


	15. Lady Stark

Arya looked around slowly, taking in the sight before her. Her renewed freedom apparently came with a beautiful room in the Red Keep that looked out on the city.

The Stark girl took a deep breath as she stared at the view, glad to feel the wind in her hair again, and to smell something other than a stinking cell… She herself still smelled bad, though, but that would apparently soon be remedied.

She turned away from the balcony to walk around her quarters. They weren’t the same ones she had stayed in with her family years back, luckily, but they had the same feel to them. She supposed they all did, every single room in the Red Keep was built of the same luxurious furniture and decorations, but the fact that not a single stag/lion decoration was left now made it easier on her.

As she walked past a large mirror, Arya looked at herself closely. The clothes she was wearing – had been wearing since she started pretending to be Unsullied – were more like dirty rags than anything else. On the one hand there were the tears made by the cuts she sustained, and on the other hand the leftover blood stains that she couldn’t get out no matter how hard she tried.

She looked skinny, but not too horrible, she thought. Her face was pale from lack of sunlight, but not too sunk in. Watching herself touch her own face, feeling those familiar features and seeing them at the same time comforted her greatly. Using others’ faces was amazing, but every time she did it and went back to her own face, she felt more and more distorted.

Lastly, her hands went up to her hairs, only to immediately retract them.

_Ugh… I_ really _need a bath… Wonder what’s taking so long…_

Looking at the door for a moment Arya sighed, her mind going back to the earlier conversation in the small council room, right after she was released.

_“Well, now that you have your freedom, you may leave us. I will have Missandei get a room set up for you, and you-“_

_Arya swiftly interrupted the Queen. “Your Grace, I’d like to see my brother’s letter first.” When Daenerys shot her a piercing look, she quickly added a not too heartfelt “…Please?”_

_The silver-haired woman rolled her eyes sighing, looking at the girl sternly._

_“Would you already have me regret releasing you, lady Stark? Because if you’d like, I can always send you back to your cell…”_

_Daenerys looked calm as she spoke, but Arya could see the anger flickering in her eyes, so she forced herself to be more… polite._

_“I apologize, your Grace. I am of course grateful, for everything. Being released, getting a room, it’s great! I simply-“ she sighed for effect, “I just want to make sure my family is alright. So please,…  your Grace… can I read that letter?”_

_Arya even threw in a smile at the end, but when that only made the queen arch an eyebrow she knew that part was overkill._

_“I will let you read that letter, but only later today,_ Lady _Stark. My advisor and I still have much to discuss about the earlier meeting, and on top of that you are still covered in stench and the blood of the man who tried to kill you. Once you are all cleaned up I will consider letting you read that letter.”_

_The young wolf wanted to go against the queen’s words, and make her read the letter now somehow, or at least let her give certainty about reading it, but looking at the queen’s face she knew now wasn’t the time for that kind of discussion._

_So the simply swallowed and gave a small smile, her grey eyes darkening with a slight held-back anger. “As you wish, your Grace.”_

_Daenerys didn’t back down, though. “Wonderful”, she said, before addressing one of the servants in the room. “Please have Missandei get her to a room.” The queen smiled back at Arya now, an almost sadistical smile. “The Lady Stark urgently needs a bath and a change of clothes.”_

The thought of the queen’s last words to her annoyed Arya.

Obviously, Daenerys wasn’t wrong. She really could use a bath, especially now that she was the dirtiest thing in the entire room she was in.

Just the tone of those words, as well as the way she said ‘Lady Stark’ irked her.

_‘Lady’ Stark… I’m no more a lady than Sansa’s direwolf was…_

At the same time, though, it amused her as well. The way the queen played along… It was fun.

Then again, Arya found a lot of things amusing now that she found a purpose for her future again.

Even the simple walk up to the room with Missandei was amusing. The way the woman had looked back worriedly, her eyes shifting from the guards to the free former prisoner… The look in her eyes was simply priceless.

The young assassin would have reassured her that she would do her no harm, but honestly, being feared like that was simply too much fun.

She was still half-grinning thinking about it when a knock on her door shook her from her thoughts.

Her head flipped around to see Missandei walk in, followed by a number of servants carrying a bath tub and many buckets of hot, scented water.

Arya put her hands behind her back and simply watched as they did so, schooling her features once more to become an emotionless mask.

She could see that all servants were nervous, emptying their buckets and hurrying out as quickly as they could, and from the corner of her eye she could see that Missandei was trying to look calm in the corner, although her nervousness was clear from the way her hands were fidgeting.

When the tub was finally full and the servants were out, Arya sighed almost happily and took the hem of the shirt to begin taking it off, when she noticed that Missandei was not leaving her.

On the contrary, she stood there and watched while the Stark girl tried to take off her clothes.

After a few moments of awkward staring and silence, Arya couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m going to have that bath now…” she said, frowning at the other girl, trying to hint at her leaving.

To her surprise, Missandei nodded with a slight smile.

“Please do, lady Stark.”

Arya shook her head for a moment, and then shrugged.

_Fine, if that’s how she wants it… I don’t care…_

And she really couldn’t care less about the scribe seeing her, so she simply started taking her clothes off and dropping them on the floor.

It was only when she had taken everything off and started getting in the bath that she understood why Missandei was still standing there.

As she immersed herself in the water, she could see the tall woman pick her clothes up from the floor and walk away with them, with what looked like a hidden smile on her face.

“Hey!” Arya all but shouted, frowning at the woman. “Those are my clothes, where are you taking them?!”

Missandei stopped at the door, making her amused face very visible to the young wolf.

“The queen ordered me to take away these dirty rags, my lady.”

The younger woman shook her head, angry. She couldn’t argue with her, of course… The clothes were extremely dirty… But still.

“What am I supposed to wear then?”

The clothes-thief smiled sweetly. “Do not worry, lady Stark. There are enough clothes in the closet over there. Clothes that are more befitting of a real lady.”

And before the Stark girl could answer the woman was out the door, leaving a moping Arya to soak in the bath.

 

* * *

 

Daenerys was sitting in her own private quarters when a giggling Missandei entered.

She immediately smiled as well, her worries forgotten for a moment.

“I take it went well then, Missandei?”

The queen was glad to see her friend nod amusedly. Earlier, after she had shown the Stark girl her room, Missandei had seemed out of sorts, fearful even of the girl.

And seeing as Daenerys still wanted to get back at the girl for being so rude earlier, she had hinted that Missandei should treat her like the lady she truly was.

Something that had obviously worked out in her favor, and against the wolf girl’s.

“Yes, your Grace. You should have seen her sitting in the bath like a kicked puppy when I told her she could ‘wear something more befitting of a lady’… You were right when you said she did not like to be seen as a lady, it was very amusing.”

Seeing Missandei smile made Daenerys easily follow. “Yes, our assassin friend might be able to make everyone else uncomfortable, but two can play that game… Thank you for following through with that, I know you were nervous about being alone with her.”

The young scribe shrugged, still smiling. “I was nervous, yes. But it was as you said it would be, your Grace, once she was in the bath and I had taken her clothes, there was nothing scary about her anymore. In fact, she was almost cute rather than scary.”

Daenerys looked puzzled at this, but let it be. “Cute? Hmph, I doubt that, but if you say so I can at least imagine her shock. Regardless, I’m curious to see the little big bad wolf in a frilly dress.”

The queen could hardly believe herself how petty she was being, but honestly, she did not quite care right now.

The events of that day had left her somewhat shocked; first the letter from the Starks, her discussion with Tyrion, the meeting with the lords and then one of them trying to kill her. And then the annoying Stark girl…

She had figured out by now that the young wolf found some kind of sick enjoyment in making other people uncomfortable. She had already noticed it when they talked in the girl’s cell, and it became even more clear earlier.

Daenerys knew she should ignore it. Ignore the girl altogether, lock her up in her room until they left for Winterfell.

Just let her be, and go about her own business as usual. A queen shouldn’t keep herself busy with a prisoner-turned-lady-in her custody.

And yet… she just couldn’t help it. The girl brought out the worst in her, and at this point she figured she might as well go with it and play the game, instead of simply being annoyed the whole time.

A knock on her door disturbed her moment, and as she called to enter an Unsullied guard walked in the door.

“Your Grace, the Arya Stark is here, says you were expecting her?”

Daenerys was surprised. “That’s fast… Is she all cleaned up, then?”

The Unsullied nodded. “Yes, your Grace, I believe so.”

She smirked, throwing a meaningful look to Missandei.

“In that case, you may let her in.”

The queen looked at the door amusedly, expecting to see an extremely pissed wolf wearing a pink dress.

Instead, though, she was met with the sight of a smirking Arya, wearing clean trousers and boots, and even a leather jerkin.

Daenerys looked on in shock, but when she saw the girl’s smirk growing she quickly schooled her features again, trying not to look as annoyed as she did.

“Surprised, your Grace? Were these not the clothes you thought were ‘befitting a lady’?”

The queen took a deep breath, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

“They were not entirely what I had in mind, no…” she said slowly, ignoring the amused smile on Missandei’s face as she spoke. “Where did you get these clothes? If you hurt someone to get them-“

She was interrupted by the Stark girl’s laughter. “Of course not, your Grace. But I know this castle, and I know where the knights and pages keep their things. I simply… borrowed some.” She smiled again. “I hope I didn’t disappoint you?”

This time, the queen did roll her eyes. “No, no, of course not… Just… Please try not to steal the belongings of me or my men, it’s not very… polite.”

Arya nodded and bowed. “As you wish…”

She smiled, glad her plan had worked out as it did.

_Stupid idea, playing a game with one of the Faceless Men… Fun, but stupid._

As she stared into those annoyed violet eyes, Arya sighed and felt her smile fall again.

“Your Grace, if you will… I’d like to read that letter now…”

Daenerys could tell this was serious business to the girl, so she immediately followed suit.

“Very well”, she nodded kindly, indicating for Missandei to get her the letter. “Have a seat.”

Arya breathed in deeply as she sat down in front of the queen, not quite knowing what position to give herself.

When the translator passed her the letter, though, she didn’t think anymore and was immediately invested in what her brother had written…

 

* * *

 

‘To her Grace Queen Daenerys Targaryen, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Rightful Ruler of Westeros,

Word of your victory has recently reached us in the North. As you know, we held only animosity toward the former royal family, who have only done wrong by the North, so it pleases us to know that their rule is finally over.

As you may know, I, Jon Snow of House Stark, was proclaimed King in the North, the title my brother Robb Stark once held in our war against the traitorous Lannisters and theirs.

However, the title is not one I have chosen for myself, it is simply born out of necessity to unite the North once more. But if your rule could unite Westeros as a whole again, your Grace, I will gladly relinquish my title.

To prove this to you, and to prove the loyalty we wish to show you, I have visited the Houses of the North. As you can see in the added letter, they have all agreed to pledge their allegiance to you, so that we may once more be united as a nation.

Unfortunately, though, the North’s allegiance comes with a condition. Not a condition by choice, your Grace, but one necessary to ensure the North, and Westeros as a whole, will still exist by the end of this winter.

We are all in grave danger. The Wall in the North is crumbling, and soon the White Walkers, an army of thousands of undead soldiers, will attack. We have a Seer in our midst, who has seen that the spells that protect out world from the dead that seek to enter it will most likely be destroyed in less than two months, maybe even only in one month.

If that time comes, your Grace, the North will not be enough to protect Westeros. Our losses from the past wars were too great, and even if all our Houses unite the White Walkers will be able to march onward to the South. And with each soldier they defeat, more of their own will be created.

It is for that reason also that we send an ally to help you take the throne. My sister, Arya, who I hope was a strong asset to your cause. She knows about the White Walkers as well, and of the situation we are in, so please ask her if you have any more questions.

We eagerly await your response, your Grace, and truly hope you will unite all of Westeros once more, and come to our aid in these dire times.

Sincerely,

Jon Snow

House of Stark

P.S.: If for some reason Arya has done something to displease you, then I beg of you, let no harm come to her. She has great skills, but one of them is unfortunately angering highborn ladies… Please, let her come home safe. Our sister promised us that she would come home after all this, alive and well, but something tells me she was lying when she said that.   
Please, make her keep her promise.

 

* * *

 

There was no name by that last part, but the handwriting was different from the rest of the letter, frillier, and Arya knew immediately that her sister had added it.

Daenerys looked on in wonder as she saw the emotions flicker across the young woman’s face, and when she was clearly done reading she couldn’t help but ask the question that was on her mind since she read the letter.

“I assume your sister wrote that last part, yes?” she asked, and when the young Stark only shortly looked up and nodded, Daenerys continued. “Why would your sister think you had no intention to go home after helping me… Didn’t you?”

Arya paused for a moment, then shook her head.

The silver-haired woman looked puzzled. “But they’re your family? They have lost enough relatives as it is, you must know you coming home is all they want?”

The young wolf smiled sadly, her grey eyes shining with defeat.

“No, your Grace… They’d want our parents to come home, or my brothers Robb and Rickon… Good people, who’ve only ever done good things in their lives. But me?... They’re better off without me.”

And then she was out the door, leaving behind a dumbfounded Daenerys.


	16. Sneaking

The Red Keep was practically buzzing with activity. The news about the upcoming war in the North had reached the rest of the South as well by now, and preparations were in full effect.

Soldiers and servants alike were running through the hallways, gathering food, weapons and any other materials they might need. Most of the Dothraki had come back to the Royal City now as well, and even though they tended to stay on the outside of the castle their loud voices echoed loudly through the halls.

The stress was almost palpable at this point, even more so because of the cloudy and even chilly weather, an indication that the predicted winter was finally coming, even to King’s Landing.

One person was unaffected by any of this.

Arya wandered through the Red Keep calmly, her pace a casual stroll compared to most other people she encountered.

To be fair, if she’d truly stayed inside as she’d been ordered to, the young woman might not have been this calm. After two days of simply hanging out around the Red Keep she was already fed up entirely with the nervous servants,  the guards tailing her whenever she left her room, the lack of action she was getting… and Tyrion Lannister.

From the moment she was released, the Imp was unrelenting. Whenever Arya left her room, and sometimes even when  she was still inside, he accosted her with questions.

Some she didn’t mind; questions about what she knew about the White Walkers, about the quickest road she knew to the North, about the numbers of Northern men they could expect to aid them in the war.

Arya of course didn’t know all answers – how in the seven hells was she supposed to guess which House would send how many decent soldiers? – but at least those questions served a purpose.

He had more questions, though… She could tell when the kind of questions changed to more personal ones when he suddenly got much too… Chummy.

They would be talking about places in the North they might use to defend themselves from the enemy, and all of a sudden he would hand her another cup of wine, pat her on the back and clear his throat as he first commented on the weather…

_“So, ahem… The weather’s been getting quite chilly, hasn’t it? Winter truly is coming… I already quite miss the sun, ah, but I imagine you do too, Arya, after all your time in Braavos”_

… to then reach his true goal.

“ _Did you train outside with the Faceless Men? Are there many of them? It must’ve been difficult to learn their ways…”_

_“Is it painful wearing someone else’s face? Is the magic a difficult one to learn? Can anyone simply put on a new face? Can anyone’s face be used?”_

And sometimes he would dig even deeper, obviously trying to answer question he – and his siblings – had for years.

_“So how did you escape King’s Landing all those years ago? Did you escape to Braavos immediately? How did you survive the wars that were going on around you? Did someone save you? Someone must have kept you safe for all those years?”_

It went on and on and on,  and even though Arya effectively blocked every single personal question, at the end of a long second day of ‘freedom’ she was struggling to keep her anger at bay.

When his final question of that day was about her brothers Robb and Rickon she simply hadn’t been able to take it anymore. Resisting the urge to turn over the table they were sitting at and bashing Tyrion’s face in with her bare hands, she merely smiled darkly, kindly told him the conversation was over and left the room.

That might have been enough to keep him off her case, but the young wolf did not feel like waiting to make sure it had. So the day after, she had told the guards outside her room that she was not feeling well and intended to stay in for the day, to then climb out the window, put on Frog’s face and disappear into the city.

Since then, her days had become much more pleasant. She could walk around the city freely, talk to whoever she wanted, eat whatever she wanted, and above all fight whoever she wanted.

The first time she got in a fight again it was rough; her wounds were mostly healed up, but her body was still sort of weak, and the guy she was fighting – an ape she had caught beating up a little boy –  was almost able to floor her with a single punch.

Luckily for her, though, he underestimated her enough to turn his back on her, which enabled her to grab him by the shoulders and swiftly push her knife into the side of his neck, effectively slicing the artery.

That first kill since she was released had been rough, but at the same time it had given her a thrill she had missed. She was even able to get through a dinner with Tyrion that night when she got back, and every night since.

And that was how her days were spent now. She told her guards she didn’t want to be disturbed, fleeing her room through the window and wandering around King’s Landing as Frog – now named Naden for whoever asked  – and killing any criminal she came across, before going back by nightfall to either have dinner alone or with the Imp.

_Freedom is nice_ , Arya thought happily as she walked on through the Red Keep, passing even more hasty servants.

Today was especially satisfying. The nervousness in the castle had seeped into the rest of the city at this point, resulting in an even higher amount of _assholes_ wandering the city than usual.

The young assassin had even spared some men today, simply pleased to beat them up and leave them to lick their wounds.

Which was why she felt comfortable enough to get back into the Red Keep early, of course still disguised with Frog’s face.

It was nice not to be recognized for once. Whenever she walked through the castle as herself, she was easily recognized by the servants and guards, and met with either fear or animosity.

The young man she was pretending to be now though, Naden, wore very plain clothes and was therefore easily overlooked.

Arya went through the familiar hallways, looking for a very specific one she remembered from when she was younger, when a voice down the hall suddenly caught her attention.

“… feel like we should have someone look for her, but lord Tyrion said she might have needed some time on her own, to cut her some slack…”

“Perhaps the lord Tyrion is right, your Grace. I have heard some of the conversation’s he’s had with the girl, anyone would want to run away, especially someone who’s been treated like a caged animal for weeks.”

As Arya heard the queen sigh she knew she needed to move quickly, but she froze in her place when she saw the two turn the corner, coming her way.

_Shit shit shit … How did I not think they might walk around this hallway as well, it’s so close to the throne room! They know Frog’s face, so I can’t meet them head on… SHIT!_

The young woman began walking in the other direction, calmly as she could, trying to change her posture and the way she walked so they would not recognize her…

“Hey, you there!”

… In vain, unfortunately.

Arya stopped, and by the time Missandei and the Queen had caught up with her she had already taken off her face and greeted them with her own.

“Your Grace, how are you?” she asked sweetly, putting on her own ‘friendly’ face.

Daenerys Targaryen looked annoyed, her eyebrows arched like she couldn’t even believe the girl dared ask her this question, but she answered regardless.

“I thought I recognized you, lady Stark. You are far away from the room you are supposed to be in…”

_Not as far as I was an hour ago, but sure_ … Arya thought, keeping her face a cool mask as she answered.

“I am… your Grace.”

When she didn’t provide any other answer, the queen cocked her head to the side, crossing her arms.

“And does the lady Stark perhaps have a reason for this blatant disobedience?”

Arya grimaced… Calling her ‘lady’ and ‘disobedient’ in one sentence annoyed her greatly, to obvious pleasure of the queen.

_Of course she would enjoy this…_ the younger woman thought, noticing how Missandei smiled secretly in the background, before answering the queen.

“I don’t know what the lady Stark would say about this, as she’s all the way up North-“ to her annoyance, Daenerys smiled as well as she spoke, an almost victorious smile, “but if you were to ask me, I have to be honest, I was just sick of sitting in that room or being bombarded with personal questions by Tyrion all the time, so I snuck out.”

She could tell that choosing to stay close to the truth worked out in her favor this time, as the queen and her translator shot each other meaningful looks.

Missandei seemed to try and be understanding of the situation, but Daenerys still looked wary.

“To do what? You can’t truly expect me to believe you, an assassin, snuck out simply to be alone when you could just as well have been alone in your own room…”

Arya shook her head slightly, looking down for a moment before making eyecontact with the queen again.

“No, I didn’t want to be alone in my room. I’m not really made to stay in one place, so I figured I’d go for a walk - without the annoying Imp following me around – and look for the hallway I remember from when I was a kid in this castle, the one with the dragon skulls.”

This time she really had Daenerys’ attention, the distrust suddenly gone from the woman’s face to be replaced by intrigue.

_Bingo…_

“The dragon skulls? What do you want to do with those?”

The smaller woman smiled, an almost genuine one. “Look at them, obviously. I always liked them when I was younger, especially the big ones that I could fit my entire body in. I was just curious if they still look as enormous, or if it only felt that way because I was small when I last saw them…”

A humph made her look away from violet eyes and focus on the translator behind the Queen.

Missandei looked like a deer caught in headlight, trying to hide her grin with her hands.

Daenerys was amused; her translator didn’t usually laugh out loud.

“Was there something, Missandei?”

When the tall woman shook her head, still trying hard not to laugh, the queen held back her smile as well, urging her friend to speak by raising her eyebrows.

“Well…”, the scribe said hesitantly, “I just thought… She thinks she was small back then… As opposed to how tall you are now?”

She was still giggling, at the end of her sentence, and this time Daenerys couldn’t help but laugh as well, especially when she turned back to Arya.

The scary assassin was staring at them with her mouth open in genuine shock. The girl even stammered, completely affronted.

“You… I’m not that… I HAVE GROWN.”

When her last words made the other two woman truly laugh out loud now, the girl turned around and made to walk away.

_Rude… Royal assh-_

“Lady Stark!”

_Rude, again_ , Arya thought as she continued walking.

“La- Stark, hold on a moment!”

The girl sighed and stopped abruptly as the queen called for her, following her with Missandei close behind her.

“I’m sorry Arya,” The translator sheepishly looked at her, although her earlier amusement was still visible on her face, “I shouldn’t have said that, I apologize if I hurt your feelings.”

The young Stark rolled her eyes, waving her apologies away. “Fine, it’s fine, I’m not very tall, I know, it’s a Stark family trait, annoying though it may be.”

Daenerys looked surprised. She had expected the girl would mope for hours, or lash out at her translator, but instead she seemed… normal almost.

The girl continued to surprise her, but right now the queen actually surprised herself.

“I could show you the dragon skulls, L- … wolf girl, or I could actually show you the real thing, if you’d like.”

Arya’s face immediately lit up, her grey eyes shining.

“You mean… show me your dragons?”

 

* * *

 

**A/N: Thank you all for your amazingly kind comments. I really love reading them, and they keep me going with this story. Thank you so much, I hope the story won't disappoint!**


	17. Of Dragons

The walk to the fighting pit where her dragons were being kept was quiet, but Daenerys didn’t mind.

Missandei, herself and the Stark girl followed the Unsullied guards at the same pace, with Arya sporadically falling in with the march, out of habit probably, to then purposefully walk in a completely different rhythm.

The Queen had been surprised to see the younger woman’s enthousiasm when she heard about the dragons, and even now that she donned her old steel mask again there was still a sparkle visible in those otherwise dead grey eyes.

Daenerys calmly walked on, keeping herself as composed and regal as always, but she couldn’t help but glance to her right every once in a while, fascinated by the girl.

_For the life of me, I cannot read her… She is an assassin, a killer, a sadist who enjoys watching people suffer… And on the other hand… She’s like a young girl… I mean, she is a young girl, but…_

She shook her head as they walked out of the palace, ending her train of thought when her Dothraki bloodrider Aggo saw her and ran up to them.

“Khaleesi,” he said when he reached them, nodding in respect. “The men are almost prepared. Our horses are as well. We can leave when you say it.”

Daenerys nodded. “Good, we will meet tonight to discuss the specifics. The Unsullied are almost ready as well, but some of them and yours should stay here to defend the city.”

The Dothraki soldier frowned and answered with his heavy accent. “I understand, your Grace, but I am not certain many will want to stay. As you know, Dothraki are not meant to stay in one place for too long.”

“I know, Aggo,” the Queen responded, her face stern but understanding, “but some will need to stay regardless, for the safety of our Kingdom. We have lost too many good men in the battle to now loose the throne only weeks later. We will speak of this later, though, right now we are heading toward the dragons, at the l- Arya Stark’s request.”

She waved at the Stark girl as she spoke, and when she looked over she could see the girl’s face was still cool as ever, but that her grey eyes were darting back and forth between their conversation and the road ahead, the sparkle still very present.

Daenerys subtly chuckled, especially after she saw Missandei sneakily smiling at the assassin’s obvious restlessness. Then she addressed Aggo again.

“Speaking of which, have you seen my dragons today? Where they well?”

Aggo tilted his head a bit, somewhere between nodding and shaking his head. “They have eaten, your Grace, but they do not seem very happy. They want to fly, but when they go too far they pull too hard and the chains seem to hurt them.”

Daenerys’ face flashed with concern, but then she sighed. “That is unfortunate… But it had to be done… I do not trust what they might do in this new city. They have not been able to break free, though, have they?”

At this, the Dothraki wholeheartedly shook his head. “No, not this. The chains are good, strong, they will not break.”

“Good.” The Queen nodded. “We shall go see them now, then. Until later, Aggo.”

The man nodded as they walked away again.

This time, though, the walk was not as quiet as earlier.

“So, you keep your dragons in chains as well, your Grace? I thought that was something you reserved for prisoners?”

Daenerys took a deep breath.

_This girl… From childlike to uncomfortable in 2 seconds…_

She faced her, only to see that Arya was still focused forward, marching onward.

The Queen considered simply ignoring the younger woman, as she was ignoring her right now, but after a long sigh she answered.

“While I would love to reserve chains for prisoners and annoying assassins” she glanced sideways to see that the Stark girl gave a slight smile at this, “but unfortunately my dragons need to be kept in them as well. They have a tendency to fly off and kill and eat anything they come across, so to be sure my new people stay safe, I have to keep them close.”

At her words, a frown appeared on the girl’s face. “But… they’re _your_ dragons…?”

Daenerys didn’t answer this time, she simply raised her eyebrows as if to say _and..?_

After a few moments of silence, Arya looked to her left and saw this expression, only to mirror it.

“Aaand if you trained them right, you should be able to make sure they don’t kill people… Or at least not to kill people you don’t want them to kill. Your family has been able to train them for generations! How hard can it be?”

The queen’s surprised expression grew, but she also started to feel a bit flushed.

After all, the girl was right: her family had been able to train their dragons well, famously so… And here she was, mother of the last dragons on earth, and she still could not fully control them…

_But my relatives never had to fight for their own throne. They didn’t need to cross oceans and find themselves an army, they had the time and the place to train their dragons as they wanted…_

Her frustration reached a high when she saw the younger woman shake her head in amusement at her expression, a grin on her face.

“How hard can it be?” Daenerys was trying to hold back, but she felt like she was breathing fire at this point. “Are you serious right now? I’ll have you know training animals is not that easy, you need-“

“Time and effort.” Arya deadpanned, looking unimpressed. “That’s really all you need… Your Grace”

She added the last part quickly, when she noticed the Queen’s angry eyes.

Daenerys was shocked at the girl’s insolence, but she made herself calm down.

“And where would I be getting this time, lady Stark, between fighting battles and ruling a Kingdom?”

She thought she had the girl now, but the young assassin simply shrugged.

“It doesn’t need to be you, though. I mean, when I was a little girl, me and my siblings had these d-dogs.” She quickly corrected herself, trying not to give too much away. “We always trained them ourselves, but our father didn’t have the time to do this with every dog our family owned, or every horse for that matter, so usually some of his men trained them instead. Why not ask one of your men to train them? Like that Dothraki, Aggo. They are good with wild horses, they should be able to train your dragons as well, right?”

The last part was completely honest on Arya’s part, which Daenerys noticed, her anger going down as she considered the young woman’s words.

“You are not wrong, Stark, and you would be right but for one small detail.”

Arya looked puzzled into violet eyes, not even noticing where they were until the queen stopped suddenly.

The silver-haired woman smiled, nodding to her Unsullied guard to open the gate for her before meeting curious grey eyes again.

“My dragons are not exactly the same size as dogs and horses…”

With these words she entered the gates, immediately followed by Arya and then Missandei a few paces back.

When they came into the sunlight again, Arya blinked a few times, and after a while she could understand what the Queen meant.

As Daenerys walked forward, the young Stark girl stopped in her tracks, baffled by the sight in front of her.

The three dragons were in front of her now, their colourful scales lit up by the sun. As the queen approached them, Arya could see them move, opening their wings to make them look even larger.

_How on earth is she doing that?_

Arya watched in awe as the small queen stood in front of her giant animals, touching the black one’s face lovingly.

_Her hand is the size of its nostril! How does she dare to get so close?!_

Her heartbeat was speeding up, with nervousness and fear and…

Excitement.

Pure, unadulterated excitement.

This was what she had wanted for years. Ever since she was a child, she wanted to see dragons, to touch one, to fly one! Just like Visenya and Rhaenys, her old hero’s…

Missandei watched as emotions crossed the girl’s face. She felt no need to get any closer to the dragons either. Although she had been around them plenty when they were younger, with the size of the animals now, as well as their unpredictable personalities, she preferred staying farther away from them.

“What do you think, Arya?” the translator said, snapping the younger woman out of her stupor.

Arya looked at her for a moment, to immediately stare at the dragons again.

“They are… beautiful.” The girl said, obviously still in awe.

Missandei blinked. She had not expected that answer. Most people went with ‘huge’, or ‘terrifying’ or ‘monsters’ even. But beautiful? The only one who had ever responded like that was Tyrion, and she had never expected it from this girl.

She wanted to ask some more questions, but she was stopped when Arya suddenly started moving forward, slowly.

The scribe followed quickly, surprised. “Arya, what are you doing?”

The girl barely looked at her, still mesmerized by the scene in front of her. “I want to go closer.”

Missandei couldn’t hold back now, and grabbed her by the shoulder. “No, that is not a good idea. The dragons are not fond of anyone but her Grace. Going closer is dangerous. They could kill you!”

Arya looked at her now and simply shrugged, grinning. “I don’t care. I mean, killed by a dragon… Not a bad way to go, right?”

And before Missandei could answer she walked on again, the smile still on her face when she reached the animals.

Daenerys was giving her attention to Rhaegal now, when she noticed a change in her dragons.

Looking back she could see why: a grinning Arya Stark was coming closer to them, ignoring the animal’s growls.

_This girl…_

The older woman thought about stopping her, she turned around and began to hold out her hand, but she stopped herself after a moment.

The girl looked past her, ignoring her completely, entirely too focused on Drogon to even notice Daenerys’ movements.

It was odd. Daenerys had never seen anyone who even wanted to come close to her dragons… Not since they had grown taller than a horse, in any case.

And here this girl was, surprising her again.

She was shook from her thoughts when Drogon growled loudly, a sound she recognized from when he was usually about to spit fire.

Arya was standing at arm’s length right now, quite literally: her left hand was raised toward Drogon’s head, inching closer.

Drogon was backing up clearly, though, his growls getting longer and lower, but the girl refused to back down.

The Queen was shocked. She thought she could see the girl’s arm shaking ever so slightly, she could see the sweat forming on her head and she even imagined she could hear the girl’s rapid and heavy heartbeat.

But her grey eyes were determined and fierce, and her smile – although seeming almost crazy now – was still very much present on her face.

Daenerys could feel her own heartbeat speeding up as well, torn between getting between the girl and the dragon and watching the scene before her unfold.

The decision was made for her soon enough, though.

When the girl took another step, Drogon suddenly lashed out, releasing a loud growl right in front of Arya’s face.

The Queen rushed forward, fearing that the hard growl would be followed by a breath of fire.

Arya didn’t move, though. She looked on, unrelenting, her grey eyes hard even when she was only blown away by the sheer force of the dragon’s growl.

So Daenerys stopped again, watching the unlikely scene before her: her enormous black dragon screaming as he had never before, and the small wolf girl staring him down, a smile still on her face.

Finally, when Drogon was at the end of his breath, Arya put out her hand again, touching the side of his face.

The dragon stopped growling altogether now, and simply stared into the girl’s eyes as she almost caressed him, gently patting his nose.

After a while Drogon huffed and simply turned around, walking toward the other side of the pit.

Arya stood and watched him, a happy smile still on her face, when Daenerys walked over to her, her nerves finally calmed down.

“That was… Impressive, Stark.”

Arya tore her gaze away from the dragon and locked eyes with the queen’s violet ones again.

“Yeah, he is… He’s amazing… What’s his name?”

Daenerys chuckled. The girl was so caught up in the dragons, it appeared she hadn’t even noticed how impressive what had just happened was.

“He’s Drogon. The green one is Rhaegal and the gold one Viserion.”

The girl nodded solemnly, looking at the other dragons. “They’re amazing too…” She breathed in deeply, savoring the moment. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

“Neither can I”, the Queen answered, trying to get the girl’s attention again. “But now is not the time to meet them, I’d say. It is almost dinner time, and I have an important meeting afterward.”

The girl looked slightly defeated, but nodded regardless, following as the queen turned around.

When they reached Missandei, the young translator was full of emotion. “Arya, are you alright? That was dangerous, I told you it was dangerous. Your Grace, I apologize, I should not have let her go that close.”

Daenerys smiled and shook her head, walking on toward the rest of the gate as Missandei tried to check if Arya was alright.

“Don’t worry Missandei, it all turned out alright. Better than alright, even…” The Queen paused looking back for a moment at the young women behind her. “I believe we have found someone with the right skills to train my dragons.”

And with those words she turned around, leaving behind two shocked women.


	18. Trust

_Daenerys smiled and shook her head, walking on toward the rest of the gate as Missandei tried to check if Arya was alright._

_“Don’t worry Missandei, it all turned out alright. Better than alright, even…” The Queen paused looking back for a moment at the young women behind her. “I believe we have found someone with the right skills to train my dragons.”_

_And with those words she turned around, leaving behind two shocked women._

Missandei was the first to shake off her stupor, and she ran to catch up with the silver-haired queen.

“Wait, your Grace, do you mean.. Arya?”

The younger woman, meanwhile, took a bit longer to catch up.

_Does she mean… Me?_

She was still staring in the queen’s direction, stupefied, when the translator’s question made her blink a few times, her grey eyes finally focusing again.

When she saw the Queen look back for a moment and smile, she immediately hurried after them.

_She means me!_ The smile she had when she met the dragons earlier was threatening to come back, but she worked hard to push it down.

Just in case she understood the situation wrong.

No need to get her hopes up.

Missandei, on the other hand, was hoping for the opposite to be true, and Daenerys couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s large, fearful eyes.

“But… Your Grace! She’s just a girl!”

The queen continued smiling, her grin growing when she saw a frowning Arya catch up with them.

“You do remember this girl is a _very_ skilled assassin, don’t you?” She arched her eyebrow and was pleased to see Missandei flush red as she looked at the small killer, who was staring at her as menacingly as she could, her eyebrow arched as well.

“Ah… Yes, of course… I… I’m sorry, Arya, of course I respect your abilities, and I didn’t mean to belittle you, honest.”

 Luckily, the younger woman didn’t feel like going into it and just nodded and gave her a half-grin.

The translator continued. “But that aside though, it is as you said, Your Grace. The reason why no one wants to train your dragons is because they are huge, nothing like dogs or horses! Your dragons could kill her in one bite!”

“So could my dog.” Arya swiftly answered, thinking to how big Nymeria was when she last saw her, and how big she imagined her friend would be now.

Her words were not met with much agreement though. The two other women looked at her skeptically, trying to see if the girl was joking. When her expression remained serious, though, Missandei answered.

“I’m sure your childhood dog was a very… ferocious hunter.” She said, subtly, eliciting another slight smile from Daenerys, “but still, three dragons that are larger than horses with fangs and claws and the ability to breathe fire are an entirely different story. Arya could die!”

By now the Queen had stopped in front of Aggo, but Missandei was too caught up in her monologue to notice.

Daenerys continued to smile as her friend finished, and then turned to the –frowning – waiting Dothraki.

The translator blushed and became quiet as the queen turned to him.

“Aggo, as you may have understood from Missandei’s words, the Stark girl will be training the dragons from now on. She will have full access to the dragons at all time, and if she needs assistance you and your men will provide it.”

The Dothraki looked pensive.

“Khaleesi,” he said in his heavy accent, “I will do what you ask, always, but is this wise? The young wolf may be a formidable fighter, but the dragons are dangerous. They are bigger than any horse alive, and unpredictable. Any warrior would be right to fear them.”

“I’m not afraid.”

The others turned to Arya. The young woman’s face was a cool mask once again, her grey eyes determined.

The truth was, she might have been a little afraid. Meeting the dragons for a moment was exhilarating, but at the same time scary as hell. They were even taller than she had imagined, and they had this power emanating off them that made her feel even smaller.

But that didn’t matter. Fear was nothing, and she refused to admit she felt that way if that meant she had even the slightest chance of being around those dragons for a bit longer.

The connection she felt to those animals was amazing, she hadn’t felt this way since she had Nymeria. And since she couldn’t be with her, these three dragons felt like the next best – no, amazing thing.

So she kept staring into the queen’s violet eyes, determined to show her fearlessness, and to get her to go through with this idea.

Daenerys was surprised by the answer, and when she saw Aggo and Missandei were as well, she smiled again, locking eyes with the passionate grey ones.

“Well then, I suppose that settles it, Aggo. Our young wolf is not afraid, so I don’t see any problems.” When Aggo nodded, she turned to Missandei. “Unless you have any other reason why she cannot train my dragons?”

The translator frowned, her gaze flickering from the Queen to Arya. “Well.. I… I mean, we don’t know what Arya wants yet?” She questioned weakly. “Maybe she doesn’t want to train the dragons at a-”

“I want to!” Missandei was quickly interrupted by the young woman, her eyes shining with enthousiasm as she almost stood on her tiptoes to emphasize her passion, causing Daenerys to grin even wider.

The translator sighed as Arya continued more calmy now, the Stark’s eyes focused on the Queen’s. “I want to, I want to train them. I’ll do it, definitely.”

She nodded at the end, and was happy to see that the Queen nodded back at her.

“It’s settled then, tomorrow Arya will begin training my dragons.”

The Queen made to walk away, but she was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

When she turned back, she saw that it was the young wolf, her eyes shining as she spoke.

“Tomorrow? Why only tomorrow?”

She still had her hand on the queen’s shoulder, and only removed it when she saw the older woman’s eyes flicker over to them, her eyebrows arched.

Daenerys was surprised, not only by the girl’s question but also by the electric sensation of her touch. She tried to play it off as simple surprise at the question, though.

“The day is almost up, I doubt you could do much more right now, Stark. If you start early tomorrow, you’ll have more time.”

Arya shook her head. “But you said earlier that we’re almost leaving for Winterfell. I can try my best to be around them on the road, but to get them to trust me I’ll have to make them get used to me right now. I mean, I wouldn’t try to teach them tricks or anything tonight, I’m not an idiot.” She frowned, not quite sure if the queen’s smile meant that she thought she was, before she continued. “But they are comfortable now, at home, sort of, and getting close to them will be easier while we’re still in King’s Landing than when we’re constantly travelling. So… Yeah… I’d just like to do this my way…”

She ended almost weakly, perturbed by the smile on the Queen’s face and her sparkling violet eyes.

_Was it… Did I say to much? Why does she look at me like that… It’s… weird._

Daenerys could feel her smile grow the more the girl spoke, and try though she may she couldn’t stop it. The former assassin - current dragontrainer was just too cute.

When the silence went on too long and she could see the girl’s frown getting even deeper, she finally answered.

“Very well, then, as you wish. You may train the dragons your way, and if you wish to start right now, that is fine by me. You are right when you say we will leave soon, perhaps even the day after tomorrow, so make the most of the time you still have. You have my blessing.”

The girl’s large smile made her heart skip a beat, and she watched with pleasure as the girl nodded and then walked back towards the dragons with Aggo.

“Your Grace?” She looked away from the two to focus on Missandei now. The girl was looking at her questioningly, a combination of a frown and a smile on her face. “Are you sure about this?”

Daenerys smiled as she looked back toward the two figures in the distance.

“Positive. This was the best decision.”

 

* * *

 

“That was a horrible decision!”

Of course, her advisor did not agree with her.

The Queen had just met with Tyrion and the commanders of her army. Apparently, the men were finally ready to leave for battle, and the division of which men would need to stay to defend the city was, as well as the logistics, were made.

It hadn’t been easy: these were discussions they’d been having for days now, and they had to make sure they had enough people with them to help in the North, but also enough men left to take care of the city.

Tyrion would have to stay behind, of course, to make decisions in her place. He was nervous about this, of course, remembering the last time he had to rule in her stead, but she was confident that ruling Westerosi would come easier to him.

So it had been decided they would leave in a day, and Daenerys’ earlier joy about the dragons was added to by the knowledge that the preparations were finally almost over.

A joy, she learned at dinner, Tyrion did not share.

“Your Grace, you cannot be serious! Letting Arya Stark _train_ your dragons is madness!”

The Queen shook her head smiling, noticing that Missandei was nodding in agreement while the Imp paced around the room.

Tyrion continued. “Letting her get close to the dragons was dangerous enough, but this? Arya is a Lady of House Stark, the House that is key to the allegiance of the North! If she were to get hurt, or worse, before we got her back home, it would be political suicide!”

Daenerys calmly kept eating, looking unimpressed as her advisor went on.

“And you, Missandei,” the translator stopped nodding to look surprised, “How could you let this happen!? You’re supposed to put reason in the Queen, to make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid!”

Missandei stared at him. “Lord Tyrion, that is not at all what I’m supp-“

He waved away her response. “Your Grace, this is ridiculous, letting a small girl take care of those enormous dragons… It’s madness!”

He ended with that, finally stopping his pacing to point at the Queen.

Daenerys still looked unimpressed, though.

“Yes, you mentioned that, Tyrion.”

He was getting annoyed now, making a few meaningless sounds before sighing and grabbing his cup of wine.

“Well… Yes, and I mean it. Daenerys, what were you thinking? Yesterday you didn’t even trust the Stark girl, and now you’re giving her full access to your dragons? You either still want her dead, or you truly believe she can actually train your dragons…”

The silver-haired woman smiled. “I do not want her dead, Tyrion, and I don’t believe she will die. I have seen her with my dragons, and I may not trust the girl, but I do trust her ability to be around my dragons. Do I believe she will be able to train them…”

She shrugged, taking a sip of wine. “Perhaps, perhaps not. To be honest, I don’t think it’s very likely anyone will be able to train my dragons as the Targaryen’s of old did…”

Tyrion frowned. “But why then? Fair enough if you believe she’ll be safe. I suppose I can trust you to know who your dragons want and don’t want to kill and maim…” Daenerys smiled at this before he continued. “But regardless, if you don’t believe she can do it and you don’t really trust her... Why let her do this?”

Daenerys looked pensive. “Well… It is as you say, I don’t trust her. Sneaking out of her room, possibly running around town… And who knows what she might get up to when we’re on the road. So this is the perfect way to keep her busy. I don’t need to trust her as long as I can trust that she’s spending all her time with my dragons.”

Tyrion’s sigh indicated to her that he admitted defeat, but her mind had tuned out when she though back to Arya’s meeting with her dragons.

Sure, what she told her advisor wasn’t a lie. The rumors that a man who looked a _lot_ like Frog was running around town killing criminals had reached her by now, and keeping the girl with the dragons would indeed make certain that she wouldn’t wander off anymore.

But that wasn’t her only reason. She didn’t know what it was, but watching the girl with her dragons had left her awe-struck.

She had never seen a person more fearless.

And after what she’d experienced today, she was curious to see what the young wolf could do when it came to her dragons.


	19. Departure

The Red Keep was in chaos. The Queen had given the order to leave the next day, so the moment the sun came up people were hurrying to make the final preparations.

Daenerys herself went around first thing in the morning to give orders, making sure everything was ready when they left for the North.

Her people had of course been expecting her – the fact that they would leave in a day had already been communicated the evening before – and so they all stood grouped together, disciplined as they were, awaiting her instructions.

All but one.

When she went by Arya Stark’s room to bring her up to speed, the girl was nowhere to be found. Nor did it appear her bed had even been slept in. She asked a servant, who told her the girl had not come back that night.

_Of course not._

Even though she was supposed a part of one of the most disciplined groups of assassins, the young wolf annoyingly never did what Daenerys wanted her to do.

The Queen sighed as she walked away from the room.

_Honestly, where could this girl have gone now? If it turns out she is in fact roaming around the city killing criminals disguised as a man…_

She was halfway back to the throne room when a thought finally occurred to her.

_Wait… What if…_

Her feet swiftly turned her toward the dragon cages. As she walked outside she immediately saw Aggo coming toward her.

“Khaleesi…” the Dothraki nodded, “the men have begun preparing their armour and weapons. We will start loading up the horses in no time, and servants have told us they will have the food ready for us by this afternoon. We will definitely be done before nightfall.”

Daenerys answered kindly. “Thank you, Aggo, that is good to hear. The Unsullied have begun preparing as well. Do you have everything ready for the dragons yet? And have you perhaps seen Arya Stark recently?”

Suprisingly, the Dothraki grinned at this question. “The little Wolf? She came back to be with the dragons yesterday when you left, and has not left them since. When I came to check in this morning, I found her sleeping a few feet away from them, looking like…” He laughed shortly. “Well, maybe you should go see for yourself. It is a sight, to say the least.”

Daenerys smiled, infected by her soldier’s amusement. “Very well, I will go see her right now. Thank you, again.”

She nodded once more and went on her way, curious about what she would find.

When she entered the gate to the pit, it became immediately clear what Aggo was laughing at, and she had to strain herself to keep her own laughter at bay.

The Stark girl was still there, but instead of simply standing and barely touching one dragon, she was talking to them all now, occasionally petting them on the head or back.

And instead of looking more or less clean the other day, she looked… almost pitch black with filth.

The Queen stared at her, unnoticed thus far by the girl, taking in her current state.

She was still wearing the same clothes, but they were covered in dirt, hay, shit and soot. Her face had a lot of grime on it as well and her hair was a stringy mess in which it was hard to see what was hair and what was hay.

The assassin looked a mess, to put it simply.

“No Rhaegal, come on, we’ve been over this, you stay _here_ -“ Arya touched his nozzle and pointed down as she spoke. “And when I go over there and call your name, you come and you get the meat. Got it?”

Her question was met with silence, but that didn’t seem to deter the young woman as she moved a few meters away again, grabbing a piece of meat from a barrel and holding it up.

“Alright, let’s try this again. Rhaegal! Come!”

Unfortunately, Rhaegal wasn’t the only one who came. As she stood there, the three dragons hurried over to her, pushing at each other to get to the meat first.

Daenerys couldn’t help but laugh at this, grinning widely as she saw the girl getting pushed back by her dragons.

“No, oh come on.. _ENOUGH!_ ” Her final command made them pause, which almost impressed the silver-haired woman, but only for a few seconds: Drogon quickly made use of the distraction to grab the piece of meat from the girl’s hand.

“Drogon, you dick, that was Rhaegal’s food! I’ve had it with your attitude, no more food for you! Do you hear me, Drogon?-” The dragon had by now turned around, leaving Arya to shout at its back, looking like a maniac with her dirt-covered body. “All you’re getting from now on are beans and sprouts! BEANS AND SPROUTS!”

The queen burst out in full laughter now, almost doubling over with amusement.

At this, Arya finally noticed her.

Daenerys saw her grey eyes widen in surprise, to then grow smaller as the younger woman walked over to her.

“You’re laughing at me? I can’t help that your dragon is such a dick!”

She stood menacingly, her hands in her side as she frowned at the queen, but instead of feeling threatened, the queen started laughing even harder.

When the girl continued staring her down, she tried to apologize in between laughs. “I’m… I’m sorry, Stark, it’s just….” She took a deep breath as she looked the girl up and down, smile still stuck on her face. “You look ridiculous.”

Arya’s frown grew even deeper, but when she followed the queen’s gaze and actually looked at herself, she was shocked at how dirty she really was.

As she looked up with wide and shocked eyes, she saw the queen’s violet ones lock with hers, and immediately noticed the woman’s eyes scrunch up as she began laughing again, at her dumbfounded face this time.

Without even noticing, Arya followed suit, laughing as she imagined how ridiculous she must look to the noblewoman right now.

When their laughter died down after a few moments, the younger woman grinned as she spoke. “Wow, I did not realise I looked this horrible.”

The Queen shook her head, still smiling. “Trust me, Stark, you don’t know half how bad it is.” As she spoke, she plucked a piece of hay from the girl’s hair.

Arya looked a bit surprised at the movement, but grinned again soon after. “Yeah, I bet it’s not really a very good ‘palace look’. Sorry you had to see this, your Grace.” She mock-bowed at the end, hoping for a reaction from the queen.

Daenerys shook her head. “Oh, a palace look it most certainly is not. But truth be told, I do believe you’ve looked worse while you were here…” Her thoughts led her back to when the girl was covered in blood, when she saved her life and when she killed Cersei Lannister, but ignored those thoughts quickly to ask her a question.

“Why is it you look like this? Did you stay here all night?”

The young wolf nodded. “I did yes. I heard last night that you plan to leave tomorrow, so I figured I would take as much time with the dragons while they were still ‘at home’ as I could. And as to why I look like this…” Daenerys noticed how the girl glanced toward the dragons annoyed for a moment, before she continued. “Well, your children don’t exactly play nice. I’ve been trying to get as close to them as possible, and it was working until I tried to use their dinner to get them to listen. They got real pushy real quick, and began lighting the hay on fire and…”

She shrugged, waving at her own body. “Well, you can see the rest.”

Daenerys’ smile faded… “Wait, they breathed fire? Did they hurt you?” She moved to grab the girl’s arms to see, but Arya quickly moved back.

“No, no don’t worry, I’m fine! If there’s one thing I’ve accomplished in these past hours, it’s that they don’t feel like killing or maiming me… I think… Which is definitely a plus!”

The queen calmed down and smiled again. “Indeed it is, I’m glad. Your current look aside, it does feel like they like you, Stark. I haven’t seen anyone handle them like you just did.”

Arya smiled, pleased with the compliment. “Thank you, Your Grace. Getting them to listen won’t be easy, but I’ve got the whole way to Winterfell to train them. By the time we get there, I’m confident things’ll be better.”

At those words, Daenerys nodded. “I hope so, Stark, that would be quite something. I…” The queen wanted to continue, but stopped herself and looked back at the castle. “I have to leave you now, preparations for our departure have begun, but I expect you to be ready to leave tomorrow…”

The girl nodded, her face going disciplined again. “I will be ready, your Grace.”

The Queen walked away at her response, only to turn around a few moments later.

“Oh, and be sure to wash up before you leave.” She smiled, her violet eyes twinkling. “That’s an order.”

As she walked off, Arya felt a smile tugging at her lips again.

_That woman is such a… snob…_

 

* * *

 

The army left the next morning at sunrise. A vast group of Dothraki, Unsullied and already some of the Southern House’s armies marched with them.

As well as three chained dragons, of course.

It felt hard for Daenerys to say goodbye to her newfound city – and home, and it was especially hard to leave behind Tyrion. After all these years, she had truly come to appreciate the man, both in intelligence as in wit, and travelling without him would leave a gap.

Luckily, it also meant that she had someone she could trust to defend her throne and make the needed decisions, so she could be certain that her hold on the Kingdom would be safe as she went North.

And she was not alone in her travels, of course. Missandei rode with her, as always, and Grey Worm and Aggo stayed close at all times as well.

And then there was the Stark girl.

Arya was travelling with the dragons, staying at the back of the group at all times. Daenerys wanted to stop by on the first day to check in on them, but neither the first day nor the days in the week that followed.

She had Aggo bring her news about her progress though.  Every evening, at the end of the meeting with her commanders and the Lords that joined their group, the Dothraki would come by to tell her about the dragontraining.

How the girl had taken to riding next to the dragons as they went on.

How the girl would take one dragon at a time out during breaks to try the trick with the meat again.

How the girl was pushed back again.

How the girl was almost set on fire when she tried to take the meat back out of Vyserion’s fangs – _truth be told, Daenerys was shocked at that, although she tried her best not to show it._

How the girl finally got Rhaegal to come to her when she called him, even without using any meat.

How he ended up knocking her off her feet with his tail anyway…

The stories seemed to begin looking more hopeful as time progressed, which made the Queen wish she could go over and talk to the young Wolf about it. But every time her meeting had ended and she went to see her dragons, the girl had already gone to bed.

When after a few days they reached a crossroads and had to discuss where to go next, though, Daenerys saw an opportunity to talk to the younger woman again.

Only moments after she had sent for her, Arya Stark came riding up to the beginning of the troop, her features schooled into a steel mask once more. She looked better now though: clean again, and obviously prepared for battle. The Queen had ordered for her to get everything she needed when it came to armour and weapons, and the young assassin had obviously taken those words to heart.

Daenerys almost felt herself smile again when she saw those grey eyes, but stopped herself quickly when she saw the stern look one the assassin’s face.

Of course, their moment of amusement was over. This was a serious occasion, and definitely no time for laughter.

Regardless, that didn’t stop her from taking a jab at the young wolf.

“Stark, good to see you cleaned up again.”

The younger woman barely responded, but the Queen could see a glimmer of amusement shine through in her eyes, as well as a slight grin forming at her lips.

“Anything for you, your Grace.” She said it quietly, almost only for Daenerys to hear, before she continued more loudly. “You summoned  me?”

Daenerys smiled and nodded. “Indeed I did. We will be arriving at a crossroads in a moment, and I would appreciate your advice about the road we need to take. You should know the way North better than I do.”

Arya frowned but followed as the Queen began riding again, steering her horse to ride next to her.

“Your Grace, I’m sure I have some idea, but don’t these Southern Lords know the roads better than I do?”

The Queen didn’t seem phased by the question, although she knew the girl did have a point. “Perhaps they know their way around here, but none of these men have ever actually gone North in their lives, so in that regard you are the expert here.”

At this, the young wolf shrugged and accepted the map the Queen handed to her, looking it over.

Many of the places she recognized from both her travels with the Night’s Watch as her time with the Hound, so she did have some knowledge about the best –and worst – paths.

They discussed even as they passed the crossroads, the queen now actually interested in other possible roads they might take.

As they came across an inn, the troop’s march was stopped suddenly when they saw a woman run out the door, screaming, followed by a brutish man who stomped out and grabbed her arm.

Daenerys couldn’t believe what she saw when the man began hitting the woman, and shouted.

“You there! In the name of Queen Daenerys of Westeros, Mother of Dragons, I command you to unhand that woman!”

The brute turned around at this, grabbing the woman in front of him now and putting a dagger under her chin when he saw the large group of armed men staring down at him.

“Get lost, our I kill her!”

The Queen held her hand up to stop her men – and Arya – when she heard them unsheathe their swords – they could easily kill this idiot, of course, but she did not want to have the girl killed or hurt in the process.

“I will say this one more time, lowlife.” The Queen almost growled as she spoke, making the young wolf next to her look at her impressed. “You will unhand that woman… right now, or you will die a horrible death.”

At her words, the man spat on the ground, shouting. “Fuck you, ya cunt! This bitch is mine, and this land is mine, and you have no business telling me what to do, you fucking dragon bitch!”

While he talked, he kneed the woman in her side, causing her to scream out, and before Daenerys could say another word she saw Arya grab a bow and arrow and immediately shoot the man in the eye.

He dropped the knife, screaming, and the woman ran away as soon as she felt his grip loosening.

When the assassin slid off her horse to go and finish the job, the Queen followed, ignoring her soldiers’ protests.

She followed as Arya stalked over to the still screaming man, and watched as she pushed him onto the ground.

“That’s what you get when you don’t listen to the queen, cunt.” The girl said, getting the man’s attention as she watched him writhe in agony, blood pouring from his face.

When the queen stood next to her, the younger woman looked back at her, her eyes a dark grey as they locked with violet ones.

“I believe you promised him a horrible death, your Grace?”

Daenerys nodded, staring down at the man as well, her eyes hard.

“I do believe I did, Stark.”

Arya smiled at that. “Mind if I do the honours?”

“No! Please!” The man begged, still clutching his eye and the arrow that still went through it, fear apparent in his voice. “Please, I’m… I’m sorry, don’t kill me!”

The Queen listened for a moment, and then nodded. “Very well then… He’s all yours, Wolf.”

The younger woman grinned darkly as she stepped forward, taking out her dagger and putting it in the man’s other eye first, to only after a moment slide the blade across his neck, watching as he bled out.

When he finally laid still, she turned to Daenerys again, her grey eyes filled with a sinister glow as she spoke loud enough for only the Queen to hear her.

“Don't tell me you didn’t enjoy _that_ , your Grace…”


	20. Falling

_The air was crisp around her. She could smell the earth beneath her, the wet leaves on the ground, the scent of snow in the air._

_She looked up at the sky. Through the trees she could see grey clouds loom over her._

_A harsh bark caught her attention. As she turned her head, she could see a wolf standing a few feet away, its gaze focused in the other direction, its hair on end._

_She went to stand next to it and directed her senses to the same place._

_When she caught the smell of the herd of boars, she bared her fangs, gave a short bark and began running._

_Speeding through the forest, she could feel the cold wind run through her fur. As she gained distance, she could see her pack mates join her in the hunt._

_But even though she was joined by many, she was still faster._

_She came upon the first boar and sunk her teeth into its neck, killing it immediately._

Arya woke up with a start, the taste of blood in her mouth.

She looked around blinking, completely disoriented, trying to get her mind in order again.

The tent was already well-lit, the sun streaming through the flap.

She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes.

_So weird…_

The young assassin kept her head in her hands, leaning her elbows on her knees.

This was the third day in a row she’d had a dream like this.

She’d dreamed of wolves before, sure. When she lived with the Faceless Men, before she became No One, she dreamt of wolves. She had similar dreams when she just came back to Westeros, and in the short time she was with her siblings in Winterfell.

But never like this. She usually barely remembered her dreams, but now, these past few days, it was like her dreams were… real.

Like right now, she could still taste the boar’s blood in her mouth.

_What the hell is wrong with me_ , she thought, still staring at the ground.

After a moment, though, she rolled her eyes.

_Nothing. You’re overreacting, Stark. Spending all your time with those dragons has left you tired, and sore, and you’re just like a little girl getting scared of your dreams._

She slapped her own face a few times and finally got up, gearing up for the day.

When she walked outside, still scratching her wild hairs, she was surprised by the intensity of the sun.

It was much later than they usually woke up, but the rest of the camp seemed in no hurry to leave at all.

Arya blinked a few times against the light, and as she chomped on a piece of meat she found near the fireplace, she looked toward the royal tent, a habit she had procured already after the first day of travelling.

Unlike other days, however, she could see no sign of the queen now.

Granted, she had woken up rather late today, but still. She was used to seeing the silver-haired woman stand in front of her time most of the morning until they left, to talk with the lords they’d been picking up on the way.

Unfortunately, although the queen was missing from the scenes, the lords were in fact gathered in front of her tent, talking amongst themselves.

_Annoying pricks…_

The young wolf didn’t like them, these Southern lords. She knew her siblings needed them and their armies in the upcoming war, and their aid would definitely be appreciated…

But that did not mean that they were all annoying, snobbish pricks who had obviously never thought about anyone other than themselves.

She glanced another look their way as she drank some water to chase down her meaty breakfast, hoping to catch a glimpse of the queen despite her obvious absence.

When she saw those men again, this time laughing loudly, she turned around toward her tent again, rolling her eyes.

She liked to tell herself that those men were the reason why the queen hadn’t been along to visit her dragons – or her – the whole time they’d been travelling, but she knew that wasn’t true at this point.

No, the queen had invited her to ride with her a few days before, which was nice. Not as nice as when they’d bonded about the dragons back in King’s Landing, but nice regardless.

The assassin had apparently ruined whatever kind of friendship might’ve been growing there, unfortunately, when she had killed that no-good thug.

She had thought that would’ve been another good bonding moment, killing a criminal together, but her last remark seemed to have ruined everything.

_“Tell me you didn’t enjoy that, your Grace…”_

Grabbing her waterskin from her tent, she sighed.

_I shouldn’t have said that.. I should NOT have said that._

It bothered her that the queen had ignored her the days afterward. Not even willing to look her in the eyes at all.

But the fact that it bothered her, bothered her even more.

She was a Faceless Man, and a Stark, a fearless killer. A dragontrainer even.

And yet, here she was, mulling over a few words she may or may not wish she hadn’t said.

_Stupid. Just stupid._

She stood up, ready to get back to her dragons until the troop left.

Before she went on the road to her animal friends, she glanced toward the queen’s tent one last time.

Instead, she was shocked to find a set of large brown eyes smiling down at her.

Missandei stood in her line of sight, a large grin on her face.

Arya swallowed, schooling her features from shock into a slight smile.

“Missandei… Good morning.”

The translator nodded back at her, her smile still on her face.

“Good morning, Arya. Were you looking for the Queen”

The older woman had of course seen the girl’s gaze go to the queen’s tent… every single morning and every single evening.

Sure, the girl was subtle enough. Missandei doubted Daenerys had even noticed the young wolf’s looks. But she had noticed them.

Despite her intimidating history, the young girl was cuter than she ever probably thought.

Especially now that her grey eyes flicked to the left and a slight blush creeped onto her cheeks.

“The… Queen? I.. Why would you think that?” the girl evaded, pretending like she was rearranging the weapons on her belt.

Missandei smiled knowingly. “Oh, no reason, I merely caught you looking toward her tent three times already this morning.”

Arya’s head shot up at her words, and she frowned but said nothing. She knew nothing she said could make this situation any better for her.

The translator let her off the hook this time, though, and continued herself: “If you were wondering about why we haven’t left yet –“ she saw the girl nod vigorously, “it is because Queen Daenerys has a meeting with the lord in his castle. He was not present at the meeting, and is not very eager to send his army to fight in the North… We will most likely be camped here for the rest of the morning, if not the rest of the day.”

The younger woman nodded, glad to know where the queen was. “Good. I would like to reach the North sooner rather than later, of course, but some more time with the dragons would be very welcome. After all, I can’t teach them much when we always have to be on the road again within the hour.”

She smiled to Missandei, grabbing a bag of food as she did so. “Well, I’ll be on my way then. See you later.” She turned toward the dragons, but out of habit her eyes flicked towards the Queen’s tent again.

Arya barely realized it herself, but did notice when her translator friend giggled, making her blush.

She walked away quickly, ignoring the giggles and the burning sensation in her face.

_Damn it… Stupid habit…_

Her annoyance with herself was quickly forgotten when she saw the now familiar black, gold and green reflection of the dragons’ scales.

Over the past days, the large animals had become her best friends in the camp.

Sure, she got along well with Missandei, some of the Dothraki she usually rode with and even the Queen at times.

But the dragons were just easier. There were no mind games, no need to weigh words, no hidden feelings.

Just claws and fire and wings.

Fine, dealing with the dragons wasn’t really _easy_. Especially the first few days on the road, they snapped at her a few times, pushed her away, growled at her the entire time…

How much easier it would have been if she’d had them since they were small.

Like Nymeria. She never had any trouble with Nymeria. The direwolf became her friend straight away, and listened to her easily.

Her thoughts about her old friend made her think back to her earlier dream.

_What if these dreams are not just random… What if they have some kind of meaning… A sign from my siblings maybe!_

The thought shook her so much that she didn’t even notice Viserion coming up to her, greeting her with his usual gnaw at the bag of food.

She let him have it though, too caught up in her own head.

_What if it’s Bran, putting these images in my head? It could be… It could be an image from around Winterfell, or a sign that I should come home… But why did the scenery feel so familiar? And why would I have been one of the wolves? When Bran showed me the White Walkers, I was just me… What could-_

Her thought process was interrupted entirely when Drogon pushed her out of the way, getting into the bag himself.

“Drogon, you glutton! Cut it out! ENOUGH.”

Her command had effect this time, and the dragons stopped their movements, standing back a few feet.

_That’s what I thought._

Arya couldn’t help but feel proud, and grinned as she gave in and tossed all three dragons the rest of the meat.

The progress she had made might not seem like much to most… She remembered the stories she used to hear about the dragons, how they listened to everything their masters said, how it seemed like their minds were one with the Targaryen’s.

But she had taught them to stop doing something they weren’t supposed to do. She had taught them to listen to their names, and come when she called them.

She had even – after long hours of trying, well into the night sometimes – gotten them to come back to her when they were flying.

That had been one of her proudest moments: the first time she got Drogon to come back down to her, even though he was already meters above them.

She released the dragons now, preparing to continue training them for that particular trick.

When they were high up, she pulled out a horn she had carved herself and blew on it 3 short times, the sound reminding her of a wolf’s howl.

Truth be told, she hadn’t intended the sound to be so wolfy – she just needed a sound to carry further than her own voice, and to be recognizable so that the soldiers did not mistake it for any other kind of war horn.

In only a few seconds, she could see Drogon flying back down, stopping right in front of her.

She wasn’t sure if the queen would appreciate her calling her dragons with a wolf’s howl, but honestly, if she didn’t want her to do that, she should have come by and told her so by now.

After all, Aggo had seen her use the horn many times, and Arya knew the Dothraki went to report on her progress every evening.

So she just continued, and now called on Rhaegal and Viserion with their own sound.

When they flew down as well and stopped in front of her, the girl grinned widely, her grey eyes shining.

They listened well, even without the promise of food… They seemed to like her well enough at this point… And on top of that, the queen wasn’t around, and she had an entire day off….

_What better time to try this?_

She felt almost shaky as she went up to Drogon, petting his head as she went further back, jumping onto his back, holding his neck tight as she put her feet right above his wings.

She imagined that the dragon would immediately take flight, and braced herself for the impact, but the animal was apparently already too used to her.

Her simply sat there, looking around curiously to see what the girl was doing.

Arya was getting impatient. “Come on, Drogon, now is not the time to be a good dragon… Go on, get up! Spread your wings! FLY!”

At that last word, something seemed to click in the dragon’s head and he swiftly spread his wings and took to the sky, almost knocking the young woman off his back.

The girl held tight, though, feeling excited and scared all at the same time as she felt the wind on her face and saw herself getting closer and closer to the clouds. When she looked down, she saw the camp get even smaller. She may even have seen Aggo and Missandei standing together, waving at her worriedly.

But she ignored that possibility and simply held on tight, enjoying every minute. She could see the other two dragons fly around her, with her almost, and it made her happier than she’d ever been.

Every movement Drogon made was completely arbitrary, his own volition, nothing Arya did could make him change direction at this point, but she didn’t care about that at all.

She had never felt so alive.

_Fuck killing…_ she thought, letting go to sit up straighter, spreading her arms as she swooped through the sky.

_Flying is better than anything._

 

* * *

 

Daenerys walked out of the castle, her trusty Unsullied guards following her closeby.

The meeting had not started off well: the lord really did not like anything Northern.

But after a while, and especially some recalling of allegiance to the House Targaryen, the man finally agreed to send a considerable part of his army with them, as well as his eldest son to lead them.

So the Queen was rather pleased with herself, although she tried not to let it show until she was back at the camp.

They weren’t too far away, only a kilometer more now. When she looked up, she could already see her dragons flying above them.

She was glad to see them, but at the same time the sight made her sigh; she knew it meant that the Stark girl was with them again, and that girl had just annoyed her one time too many.

_“Tell me you didn’t enjoy that, your Grace…”_

The Mother of Dragons shook her head thinking back to that moment.

_Honestly… One moment she seems normal, and the next she says something like that, with her eyes as dark as the night._

She had let the assassin kill the man, sure. But not because of some sick kind of bloodlust. She had simply wanted to see justice done.

Or at least, that’s what she’d wanted to feel. The Stark girl had the ability to make her doubt herself, even making her think she might turn out as crazy as some other members of her family had become.

To put it simply, the girl’s words had struck a nerve with her, and at this point she just didn’t feel like talking to her again. Or looking at her.

Which was hard, because her gaze was pulled toward the girl every time she saw her train the dragons.

Like right now, the Queen looked downhill to try and see where the girl was below her dragons.

Instead of the young woman, though, she saw Missandei, Aggo and a few other staring up at the dragons, a look of worry on their faces.

Daenerys frowned and looked up as well, shocked to see a person sitting on Drogon’s back.

Her heart constricted when she recognized the brown hairs.

_She… Seven Hells,…_

The Queen felt a range of emotions go through her. She felt scared, of course, but also impressed. The girl seemed so at ease up there, so free, her arms wide at this point.

She almost began to smile, when she suddenly saw the girl slide off the back and into the open sky.

As she watched the young wolf fall to the ground, Daenerys screamed in fear.

“ARYA!!”


	21. Fear

_“ARYA!!”_

Daenerys’ heart nearly stopped when she saw Arya slip from Drogon’s back.

Her eyes wide with fear, she stared at the sky, following the girl as she plummeted down.

_Gods no!_

Her body was frozen with shock, but as the young woman got closer to the ground the Queen picked up her feet and started running.

She felt like she was going in slow-motion as she hurried downhill, her eyes never leaving the girl.

_How did this happen?! What was she thinking, taking her arms off Drogon’s neck?! And why isn’t she moving?!_

The whole time, from the moment she slipped off the dragon’s back to right now, she had not seen Arya move a muscle. She was falling down, head-first, her arms still wide and seemingly still very relaxed.

Daenerys didn’t understand. She had seen people fall from heights: they flailed, their arms and their legs usually went crazy, even when people fell from their horses.

_But she’s not moving at all, why…_ the silver-haired woman thought, still running to where Missandei and the others were staring up in panic as well.

Suddenly, a new thought jumped into her mind. _She’s not moving, like she doesn’t want to do anything about this… Does she still have a death-wish? She couldn’t… She didn’t give any indication of…_

Her thought process was interrupted when she saw finally saw the girl move. Not flail in fear though, as she would have expected.

No, the young wolf grabbed something off her belt and brought it to her mouth, eliciting one short and one long… _howl?_

Only seconds after, and only moments before the girl would have hit the floor, Rhaegal suddenly flew underneath her, giving Arya a chance to grab his neck and take place on his back, before he took to the sky again, taking the girl with him.

Daenerys watched the scene unfold, stopping in her steps as Rhaegal passed by right above her, almost knocking her over with his wings.

Seeing the girl sit on her dragon’s back, safe and sound, the queen felt like she could finally breathe again.

_Thank the heavens_ , she thought, as she sighed deeply, rubbing her hand through her hair. Her relief quickly turned into anger though, when what Arya had done finally sank in.

She looked to where the dragon and the girl were about to land, only meters away from both her and the others, and frowned as she began running again.

Arya, at the same time, was feeling exhilarated.

The entire flight had been liberating, magical almost. The falling was amazing, and when Rhaegal then came and swooped her up, bringing her up high again before finally coming down to land…

_The. Best._

The young woman had a huge smile on her face as Rhaegal put her down, not even barely able to hide her giddiness about the flight.

She had seen some other people looking less pleased, though. But honestly, she could not let that get her down.

Nothing could bring down the pure excitement she was feeling right now.

Or at least, that’s what she thought.

While she stepped down, petting Rhaegal’s head with gratitude, she noticed a very angry set of violet eyes coming toward her, along with a bunch of other people.

_Oh ooh.._ , she thought, trying – but failing – to contain her excitement from showing too much.

Arya tried a gentle smile as she stepped forward, hoping to be able to appease the Queen by showing her how well her dragons were doing.

Unfortunately, though, before she could even try to calm down her clearly very angry Queen, a loud voice to her right caught her attention.

“ARYA STARK!”

Missandei arrived, the Dothraki and Unsullied that were watching with her following in tow, and the woman looked angrier than anyone had ever seen her before. Even Daenerys was surprised at her friend’s outburst, but no one was more shocked than Arya, who now looked like a deer caught in headlights.

She looked at her friend, grey eyes wide as she tried to smile at her. “Missandei, look, I can-“

“OH DON’T EVEN DARE, ARYA! Don’t even dare try to give a twist to it! That was reckless, and just dangerous, and you could have died! You almost _died_ , Arya! How could you?”

The smaller woman had a shameful look in her eyes, but tried to be defiant regardless. “I was just training to fly, I wasn’t going to die, it was a calculated risk, honest-“

“A CALCULATED RISK? Are you trying to tell me you didn’t just recklessly jump on top of a dragon to fly, but you also _jumped off_ a dragon to see if you could fall and still be saved?! Because if that is the case-“

Missandei was getting more and more worked up by the second, actually making the assassin back up as she got closer, her hands held up defensively, her eyes wide.

She got help from an unexpected corner, though, when the translator was interrupted.

“Missandei, please calm down, of course Arya’s not saying that.” Daenerys intervened, positioning herself between the girl and her old friend.

The Queen had not expected the translator’s outburst at all, but as the woman spoke it did make sense to her. Missandei might be a quiet person, but when it came to people she cared for, Daenerys had already noticed that she could get very protective, and fierce… Apparently even when it meant protecting them from themselves.

She had enjoyed watching the friendship between her friend and the young Stark grow, which was why she intervened now – even though the silver-haired woman was angry as well, she knew Missandei’s words would have the desired effect on the younger woman. And she also knew she didn’t want this to ruin the friendship the two had.

So she went on, looking from one woman to another.

“She did not jump off. Yes, she climbed onto a dragon, trying to see if she could fly it, which may have been reckless, yes,… but also necessary to what she was asked to do: if we ever want to truly use the dragons in battle, they will need to be trained to be flown on. There is no other way than by trying it.” When she saw that Missandei was calming down a bit, and seemed less angry, she continued.

“And as for the ‘jumping off’ part…” Daenerys looked at the young wolf for a moment, seeing her face void of emotion, but her grey eyes watching her nervously, “of course Arya didn’t mean to do that… She simply slipped and fell when Drogon made a weird movement. Right, Arya?”

The young woman nodded at the Queen first, to then shift her gaze to her taller friend. “Yes, of course. I apologize Missandei, I was trying to find a better way to fly, and suddenly I slipped and fell off… I didn’t mean for you to worry… I’m sorry.”

Daenerys watched the exchange, and was happy to see Missandei nod and engulf Arya in a hug.

“Fine…”, the translator said, letting go rather quickly when she noticed that the Stark girl simply froze and didn’t move to hug her back. “Just… try not to do anything dangerous like that ever again, alright?”

Arya nodded, a slight smile on her face. “I’ll try.”

The Queen saw that Missandei wanted to say that that wouldn’t be enough, but when she saw the smirk on the girl’s face she simply let it go and smiled back.

“Very well then… Now that everything is resolved… And everyone is apparently here,” Daenerys started, loudly addressing the now rather large group of people that had gathered around her. “The meeting with the Lord went well, they will send part of their army with us. However, to give them time to prepare, we will not be leaving today. So rest up, gather more supplies for the road. We leave again tomorrow at first light.”

As she stopped speaking ,the others nodded and started moving, back to the camp.

After a few more pointed looks, as if to say “don’t even dare to climb on those dragons again”, Missandei also left them, quickly finding Grey Worm in the crowd and walking him back to the camp.

Arya also turned around, going back to the dragons that had gathered a few meters back and giving them some attention.

When everyone else had left, Daenerys followed after her, imitating her moves by petting Viserion.

“Thank you.”

The words came as a surprise to the silver-haired woman. She had not expected gratitude from the Stark girl, not at all.

Defiance, perhaps. Some kind of backward explanation, sure.

But not his.

So she stared in shock as she watched the girl pet Drogon, her eyes focused on the animal as she continued.

“I mean it.. Thank you. Missandei has become… a friend. A good one. I hated to see her angry with me, and I don’t think anything I said would’ve made it any better. So seriously… Thanks.”

Her gaze only flicked left for a moment to see if the Queen had heard her, to then focus on the animal again.

Daenerys moved closer to her, grabbing her shoulder to force the girl to lock eyes with her.

Closed-off grey eyes met with earnest violet ones as the Queen spoke.

“It wasn’t a problem. I didn’t want you two to fight, and I didn’t want to upset Missandei more than she already was… It’s a good thing it worked out alright…”

Arya nodded and gave a slight smile, trying to move away but the hand on her shoulder kept her in place.

“That aside… Although I’m happy your friendship is safe, that will be the last time I lie to Missandei… You letting go of Drogon in mid-air… How… Why would you do that?”

The young wolf’s eyes gave a small semblance of surprise, quickly hidden by her usual mask.

“I’m impressed, your Grace… You are getting much better at the game of faces… I hadn’t even noticed you were lying.”

Daenerys sighed, her eyebrows arched in annoyance. “Lying may be a game to you, Stark, but it’s not to me. I’d rather never do that to my friend again, and I would prefer if you never did that to me again.” The grey eyes filled with a sad shame again as she went on. “So, please, stop deflecting, and tell me why you let go. Was it… Do you still believe you deserve to die? Or that you don’t deserve to go back home? Is that why you jumped?”

Arya shook her head, frowning. “No! No, nothing like that. I don’t… Maybe I didn’t see a reason to live before, sure, but that’s changed. And that’s not why I… Hell no.”

She slipped from under the Queen’s grasp and moved away, to sit down on a rock a bit further, looking through her bag for some food.

Daenerys followed, curiously watching the younger woman as she sat next to her.

“Then… Why?”

The brunette shrugged, looking down as she put some bread in her mouth. “Can’t really explain it. Not a death-wish, that’s for sure.”

The Queen pressed on, leaning closer to the girl.

“Try… Please.”

Arya looked up for a moment to find clear violet eyes staring at her, and sighed as she tried to explain. “It’s just… When Drogon took to the sky, I felt free for the first time in years. Flying like that, with those three dragons, I just felt so good, it was amazing. The wind blowing around me, being high up, far away from everything…” She smiled just remembering,  a distant look in her eyes. “I’ve never felt better.”

Daenerys smiled with her, remembering her own first time flying and understanding some of what the girl meant. “And when you let go…?”

The young wolf continued to smile and shrugged. “I don’t know, I was just curious, I guess. I really didn’t think it was dangerous, or that I would die… I just wanted to feel what it was like freefalling, and I didn’t really think about the possible consequences.”

“So you did that… without a plan? You didn’t do it to see if Rhaegal could catch you? You just, jumped without thinking?”

The Queen was starting to get worked up a little bit, but tried to keep her anger at bay.

“I… Yeah.” Arya looked down now, frowning a bit. “But it worked out though, Rhaegal listened to my signal and came to help me. That’s amazing for the future, now we know that if you ever fly them and you somehow fall off, another will come to your aid. This is good progress in their training, right?”

She smiled, but Daenerys shook her head in answer.

“But you could have died finding that out, or gotten hurt, at least. Don’t you get it? That’s why Missandei was so angry with you-“ _why I am so angry with you…_ “Because she cares about you. She doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

To her surprise, the young girl looked puzzled. “She… cares?”

Daenerys was getting exasperated and grabbed the girl’s hand now, forcing her to fully focus on her. “Of course! You don’t get _that_ angry when you don’t care about someone? After all this time you’ve become a friend, a good one. Of course we care about you!”

Arya tried to slip her hand out of the older woman’s, but the Queen wouldn’t budge. So she merely sighed and locked eyes with the woman once more.

“Why, though?” She asked, her grey eyes flicking from Daenerys’ eyes to their intertwined hands. “I’m an assassin, a killer, and just a few days ago you hated me for that as well.”

The Queen studied her as she spoke, thinking back of how she had ignored the girl the past few days and now regretting that. Suddenly, she remembered the letter from Sansa Stark and Arya’s response back then.

_“I assume your sister wrote that last part, yes?” she asked, and when the young Stark only shortly looked up and nodded, Daenerys continued. “Why would your sister think you had no intention to go home after helping me… Didn’t you?”_

_Arya paused for a moment, then shook her head._

_The silver-haired woman looked puzzled. “But they’re your family? They have lost enough relatives as it is, you must know you coming home is all they want?”_

_The young wolf smiled sadly, her grey eyes shining with defeat._

_“No, your Grace… They’d want our parents to come home, or my brothers Robb and Rickon… Good people, who’ve only ever done good things in their lives. But me?... They’re better off without me.”_

She clasped the young assassin’s hand even harder as it now clicked.

“I didn’t hate you, Arya. I didn’t really… like what you said when you killed that man, but that doesn’t mean I hated you. Or that I didn’t care for you.. I do, truly. I have seen you with my dragons, with Missandei and Tyrion, with my Dothraki and Unsullied… You are an amazing person, Arya Stark, and so much more than just a killer.”

She saw the Stark girl shake her head at that, looking down, her grey eyes filled with defeat. “But I’m not… I’m nothing more than just a killer. Arya Stark is just a name, I don’t… In reality, I’m no one…”

To Arya’s surprise, the Queen chuckled at that. “I’m sorry, but… Arya, you’re exactly like everything I’ve ever heard about the Starks. Strong-willed, wild, fiercely loyal, a little wolf-like… If you’re not a Stark, then no one is.”

The girl shook her head at those words, although her grey eyes shone with a sliver of hope. “Well… Maybe, but the other Starks don’t have the same darkness inside them… Jon and Bran and Sansa… They all went through horrible things as well, but that didn’t bring out this darkness inside them. They have become even more honorable than before. I, on the other hand,… I’ve changed completely. I’m nothing like the person I used to be. And if I’m a little wolf-like, it’s more like a rabid wolf. Not one that belongs with the pack…”

Daenerys went to sit even closer now, their knees touching as she continued holding the girl’s hands. “That’s not true, Arya. Everyone has darkness inside them, even your brother and sister. And I’ve seen you use that darkness for good, saving people… Saving _me_ … And on top of that, I’ve seen the light inside of you as well. You might not see it, but I do, every time you train my dragons, when you talk to Missandei, when you talk about your siblings…”

When Arya looked down again, the silver-haired woman gently cupped her face and forced her to look her in the eye again.

“Maybe you’re not the same person your siblings remember.. Maybe you’ve changed, and you’re nothing like the child you once were while you still lived in Winterfell… But I’ve seen you, with darkness and light, and I can tell you one thing: this Arya Stark is nothing like a rabid wolf. She is a skilled fighter, and a lifesaver, a dragontrainer… She is an amazing person… _You_ are an amazing person.. And sooner or later, your siblings will see you that way as well… Like I see you.”

When Daenerys finished talking, she could see grey eyes shine with tears, a pool of emotion staring back at her.

She still had her hand on the girl’s face, and rubbed away a single tear that escaped the younger woman’s eyes.

At the movement, Arya was suddenly unfrozen and leaned in quickly.

Before Daenerys could register what was happening, the young assassin captured her lips in a hurried kiss.


	22. Believe

Arya couldn’t believe it.

None of it.

This entire day had been too… strange.

First there was that strange dream, the wolf-dream, of which she still wasn’t sure what it meant… All she knew was that it felt so real, she could still almost taste the blood in her mouth.

Then she got to fly the dragon, fulfilling a dream she’d had since she was a child.

She’d been able to freefall, to fall from Drogon, trusting that Rhaegal would be able to catch her before she hit the ground.

Even now she was on the ground, she could still feel her skin tingling, like the cold air from high up in the sky was still caressing her.

And then there was the queen, telling her how she cared, how she thought Arya was more than just a killer, more than just the darkness she felt inside of her…

Her heartbeat sped up just thinking about the queen’s words, she could still feel the pounding in her chest.

Then again, those feelings might also have been caused by what was happening to her right now.

When Daenerys finished talking, the younger woman’s emotions became too strong, she simply couldn’t contain them anymore.

So when she felt the queen’s hand on her cheek, wiping away a tear, she felt as if her heart was flowing over, and on impulse she leaned in and captured the older woman’s lips.

Which was why right now she felt like she was running and flying and falling, all at once.

The softness of the other woman’s lips, the hand that was still on her cheek, that sweet smell of leather and roses and fire…

Arya was on cloud nine.

Until she wasn’t.

Her feelings of happiness were suddenly thwarted when reality caught up with her, and more importantly, with the person she was kissing.

After only a few seconds – which to Arya had felt like minutes – Daenerys broke the kiss, gently pushing the Stark girl away.

_Shit…_

Arya’s breath hitched when she was met with puzzled-looking violet eyes, but quickly tried to mask her own surprise with a soft smile.

The Queen didn’t look angry, sure enough, so that was good at least. But the young wolf did realise that she messed up, kissing her like that.

_Showing emotion like that… Idiot!_

So she simply smiled, grabbed her bag again and ate some more bread.

The Queen, on her part, continued to look puzzled, even more so when the other woman ignored what had happened and started eating.

After a few moments of silence, she couldn’t help but ask: “Arya… What- Why did you do that?”

Once more her composed self, Arya now brought a confused expression on her own face.

“Why? To thank you, of course. What else was I supposed to do after you said all those nice things about me?” She chuckled at the end, shaking her head, as if she was surprised that the Queen had even asked.

From the corner of her eye, she could see it worked: Daenerys’ frown grew even deeper as she continued. “You kissed me… to thank me? Is that… Do you always thank people like that?”

Arya smiled as she nodded. “Well yes, of course. We all do in Winterfell, or we used to at least. You never thank people by kissing them?”

The lie came very easy to her, and was easily accepted by her companion from the looks of it.

“Oh, I see, wonderful.” The very visible relief on the Queen’s face made the Stark glad that she decided against honesty. “And to answer your question: no.. I mean, not that I know of. We are not in the habit of kissing one another, unless it’s for romantic reasons.”

The younger woman let her eyes go wide in surprise. “Oh wow, I didn’t realise. Sorry, I couldn’t help myself, force of habit.” She grinned sheepishly after that. “I’ll try not to do that again, but just to be sure, you probably shouldn’t say nice things to me again. Unless you’d like me to kiss you, of course.”

She gave her full wolf-grin for good measure, and stood up before the Queen had time to respond.

“Now, to go back to the subject of your dragons,” she said, moving forward toward the dragons again, not even trying to see if the older woman was following her.

When she reached Viserion, she began petting him as she continued. “I understand that you and Missandei worry that it is dangerous, I do,” Daenerys had reached her by now, standing on the other side of Viserion’s head. “But the truth of the matter is that if we want you to be able to fly them safely, I am going to have to fly them now. Otherwise you might be in danger later, and not only Missandei but your entire kingdom wouldn’t be able to handle that.”

She looked up to see the queen’s reaction, hoping to see the earnestness in her own grey eyes reflected in the violet ones. The silver-haired woman’s eyes were closed off though, and Arya could not read her expression.

She was starting to fear that Daenerys had doubts about her reason behind the kiss, but her worries were soon eased when the woman rolled her eyes and answered.

“Honestly, Arya, are these dragons all you can think about?”

The woman’s grin made Arya grin right back. “Well, the dragons and flying… yes?”

Daenerys laughed at that, shaking her head. “Very well, then. Yes, Arya, you can still fly them. Just no more reckless behavior, agreed?”

Arya nodded, her smile entirely real now. “Agreed.”

The older woman smiled back, looking at the camp now. “Good, I’ll leave you to your training then, I still have to discuss the plans with the other lords. We have picked up everyone we could now, from tomorrow we’ll go straight to Winterfell.” Daenerys gave one last look to the Stark girl, touching her shoulder as she said goodbye. “Perhaps I will see you later?”

A jolt of electricity went through Arya as the queen touched her, so she dumbly nodded as the woman walked away.

When she saw the older woman was almost back at the camp, the assassin swallowed dryly and took a deep breath as she looked up at the sky.

_What in seven hells am I doing…_

She sighed, rethinking everything that had happened.

Sure, the queen had been kind to her. Kinder than anyone had been in many – _many_ years.

And yes, maybe her words had sparked something inside her. Maybe something that had been lingering for days now was finally brought to the surface.

But still, this wasn’t her. She was an emotionless killer, or she was supposed to be at least. And now, with a few words from this woman, she was reduced to an emotional mess.

_I kissed the Queen…_

She dropped her head harshly against Viserion’s neck, causing the animal to turn around curiously.

Arya barely even noticed though, and kept her head against the cool scales.

_I fucking kissed THE QUEEN._

Just thinking about it made her feel queasy.

It was ridiculous; she had seen blood and gore and death for most of her childhood. She enjoyed killing, she had even enjoyed chopping up Walder Frey’s sons.

But this? This was Sansa’s kind of stuff. Things from songs and love stories and… mostly things Arya had never thought about.

_I kissed her…_

Her mind kept going in a loop, back to that moment, still not believing what had come over her.

Her first kiss… With a queen, no less.

She closed her eyes, hitting her head on Viserion some more.

It had shocked her, and she was glad she had been able to close herself off before the queen could see that there was real emotion behind it.

The problem was that it wasn’t just a short moment that she could easily forget.

No, she had enjoyed it too much to simply forget it.

_We kissed…_

When her mind went back to the memory of the silver-haired woman’s soft lips, she snapped herself out of it.

_No, this is not you, and it is not right_ , she thought, straightening herself up and jumping on the dragon’s back.

She pushed back the memory, and the emotion, and went back to her mission of training the dragons. Her mission to help in the battle against the White Walkers.

It was amazing how easy it was to empty her mind while she was soaring through the sky. 

 

* * *

 

Daenerys looked up to see Arya pass her by for the seventh time that day.

When she had gotten back to the camp, she first assured Missandei that the girl would try and keep her dangerous actions at bay, and was glad to see that her friend accepted her words without question.

Her following meeting with the lords was then sporadically interrupted by the screech of a dragon flying right above her.

The Queen watched on with a smile each time she saw them pass by: swiftly on Viserion, erratically on Rhaegal, powerfully on Drogon. Each dragon had its own way of flying, and from the looks of it Arya was slowly getting used to all of their quirks.

Very slowly, though. Especially on Rhaegal the girl seemed to have some issues: he took such quick and unexpected turns that she could see her almost fall off many times.

Or maybe that was just the projection of her own fear. After all, none of the lords that were sitting with her seemed to even notice after a while.

She did, though. Every move the girl made, she saw.

She imagined that it might make it seem as though she wasn’t invested in the meeting, but truth be told… she actually really wasn’t.

All these Southern lords did was complain, whine about the cold and the ‘dire circumstances’.

Not about the cause, of course; after what happened with the lord of Cressey back in King’s Landing, they all made sure not to go against her reasoning behind their helping the North.

This fear unfortunately didn’t stop them from complaining about everything else, though.

Normally, the Queen would go against them, making clear that such behavior was not ‘befitting a warrior’. Today, though, her attention was elsewhere, so she simply let them rage on about the mud and the cold and the lack of decent food.

When after a while it seemed to be getting darker, and Arya hadn’t passed by in a while, she finally put a stop to the meeting – effectively interrupting someone’s complaint about the cloudiness that ‘hindered them from being sure they were going the right way’.

“Well, my Lord, I am certain the North will not be that hard to find, as long as we stick to the road. So I call this meeting to an end. Again I will remind you to be ready to leave tomorrow at first light, so make sure your men are ready. The faster we get to Winterfell, the better.”

After which she left, heading for her dragons.

Seeing Arya fly by all afternoon, remembering the girl’s earlier excitement and the way her usually dark grey eyes had lit up, the queen couldn’t help but smile as she walked through the camp.

She remembered the way she herself had felt back when she first flew Drogon; the nervousness, but at the same time the enormous excitement.

All afternoon, she had wished she could fly as well, be free for a bit, together with Arya.

She remembered the kiss as well, of course. How could she not.

It had been a strange moment, but Arya’s explanation afterwards had made sense. And in all honesty, Daenerys had enjoyed the kiss, so the younger woman’s ‘thank you’ had clearly had the desired effect.

As she finally reached the edge of the camp and got closer to the dragons, she was suddenly stopped when she felt a drop on her face.

A puzzled expression on her face she looked up. It didn’t look like rain, but she could swear there were drops falling on her skin, even as she looked.

After a while, as the drops became more frequent, she could finally see them clearly in the evening sky.

“Could this be-“

“It’s snow.”

Daenerys looked and saw Arya stand to her left, a soft smile on her face as she adjusted her parka.

“I noticed there was snow in the air earlier, so I went to change. You should put something thicker on too, your Grace. By the looks of it, some heavy snows are coming.”

The Queen nodded, but didn’t respond as she stared out onto the field, a look of wonder on her face as she watched the now larger snowflakes pour down.

The Stark girl stared at her, completely in awe at the woman’s expression. The way she stood there, her hands out to catch snowflakes, smiling, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

_Beautiful…_ Arya thought, before shaking away whatever else she might think in that moment and continuing her conversation.

“Your Grace… Is this perhaps your first time seeing snow?”

Daenerys nodded and looked back at the girl for a moment.

“Yes, I’d only heard about snow and winter in stories. I thought it was all horrible, no one had ever told me that snow is actually… beautiful.”

She smiled at Arya, a smile that almost took the young wolf’s breath away. She laughed, ignoring the growing feeling in her stomach.

“Well, it is now, yes. But trust me, the beauty of it all will soon be overpowered by the cold and the wetness, not to mention how we won’t even be able to march on if it gets too much, and-“

Arya was stopped when the Queen put her finger on her lips, arching her eyebrows.

Although the younger woman was shocked by the touch, she mirrored Daenerys’ expression.

“Fine, it’s beautiful, but you should-“

“Sh-sh-sh,” the Queen said, shaking her head as she kept her finger on the girl’s lips. “No buts, Arya. Just, for tonight, for my first time seeing snow, let me think it’s beautiful.”

Arya nodded, mesmerized by the intensity of those violet eyes.

Daenerys smiled as she did so, dropping her hand to cup the girl’s chin.

“Thank you,” she smiled, looking at the Stark’s lips as she did so.

The younger woman felt her heart almost jump out of her chest. How was she supposed to keep those bottled up feelings at bay, when this woman looked at her like that?

_Wait, did she say thank you? Does she want to thank me?_

The reality of the situation caught up with her when the queen leaned in, almost in slowmotion.

The moment was interrupted, though, when Grey Worm suddenly ran up to them.

“Your Grace!” he said as he reached them, effectively getting the queen’s full attention. “Your Grace, I’m sorry to interrupt, but it is urgent!”

Daenerys frowned. “What is it, Grey Worm?”

The man looked serious as he answered. “A woman in red is here, a priestess of the Lord of Light. She has asked for you.”


	23. Visitor

The darkness was already falling as Daenerys marched through the camp.

When Grey Worm had come to her earlier to report on this visitor, she had asked him to let the woman wait in her tent, and to keep an eye on her until she got there.

The Queen had, of course, not ran after him straight away. She calmly walked back, making sure to not let it seem as though this red priestess could summon her whenever she wanted.

As she walked on, her head high, she could vaguely make out the soft footsteps of Arya behind her.

The girl had insisted to come with her when they heard about this priestess. Something about not trusting this entire situation one bit.

_“Why would you just agree to meet her? This woman comes out of nowhere and wants to meet with the Queen, and you just… do? On top of that, she’s a priestess of the God of Light! You cannot trust any of those people!”_

Arya had raged on like this for a bit as they walked, but after a few moments Daenerys effectively shut her up.

_“Like I shouldn’t trust you?”_

Sure, that wasn’t entirely fair towards the girl. After all, she had proven her worth by now. But still, the older woman did not like being told who to trust, and at least her words had made the rest of the walk relatively calming.

When they reached the tent, the two guards at the door stepped aside for her, allowing her and her sulking wolf to go in.

As she went in, she immediately saw the visitor: a woman, dressed entirely in dark red robes, staring intently at the fire in the middle of the tent, not even noticing that someone had walked in.

Daenerys looked around for a moment, making eye contact with Grey Worm, the only other person inside besides her and Arya. He had a puzzled look on his face, indicating that he didn’t know what this woman’s deal was either.

Getting annoyed by the silence – ignoring Arya’s sigh as she went to stand at the side for a bit – the Queen cleared her throat, finally getting the woman’s attention.

“Your Majesty!” the woman said, surprise clear on her face as she moved toward the silver-haired woman, “I apologise, I had not seen you come in. Thank you for allowing me to meet with you.”

She bowed slightly, her dark eyes only flickering down for a moment, to immediately stare into Daenerys’s again.

“My name is Melisandre, I am a Priestess of R’Hllor, the Lord of Light. I have heard many things about you, and am honored to meet you.”

The Queen nodded as she swallowed dryly, a bit distraught by the intense way the priestess was looking at her.

“It is a pleasure to meet you too, Lady Melisandre… I must ask you, though, why are you here? If you are here to convince me of your faith, I’m afraid I must disappoint you…”

She watched as the woman shook her head smiling, mesmerized by the way the light of the fire was reflected in her necklace every time she moved. “No, Your Majesty, I wouldn’t dare to do such a thing… Although you will of course always be welcomed by the Lord of Light.”

As Melisandre smiled, Daenerys could swear she heard a huff coming from somewhere to her left, but since the red woman didn’t seem to notice it she ignored it and kept her focus.

“No, in truth, I am here to help you. The upcoming war will be the most important one this land has ever known; losing could mean the end of all of Westeros, perhaps even the end of life in this world. The dead are coming, darkness is coming… In the name of R’Hllor, I am here to help you stop them.”

The Queen smiled as she began to speak – but before she could get any word out, she was interrupted by a voice in the corner.

“Here to help? And how would you do that, Red Woman? By stealing a kid, maybe?”

Arya stepped out of the shadows, her arms crossed as she walked closer.

Daenerys could see the girl had a grin on her face, but she recognized the steeled look in her grey eyes straight away and immediately knew the young wolf was not happy.

Melisandre, for her part, did not seem to be perturbed at all. She raised her eyebrows in surprise as she answered.

“Stealing a child? I’m not sure what you’re talking about.. And who might you be exactly, girl?”

The Stark girl’s grin became almost a snarl as the woman talked.

“I am Arya Stark, and I know you” Daenerys saw the woman’s eyes truly widen in surprise as Arya stepped forward, until she was only feet away from her, “We’ve met before, years ago… When you came and took my friend Gendry away. _Bought_ him-“ Arya almost growled, her eyes flashing with anger, “like livestock, taking him with you in a cage.”

The Queen could see that it was the assassin was trying very hard to hold herself back, staring the other woman down as she talked.

Melisandre, on the other hand, had apparently recovered from her shock – she looked almost relieved – and answered with a half-grin.

“You… I remember you… I remember your eyes… And many other pairs of eyes… Eyes you would shut forever…” She shook her head, still staring into Arya’s grey eyes, undisturbed by the anger she saw in them. “So, as I had expected, the darkness I saw inside of you when you were a girl has only grown…”

The woman looked up and made eye contact with Daenerys now, a puzzled expression on her face.

“Why is she with you, your Majesty? You two are like night and day… Darkness and light.. How has such a terrible person been granted access into your tent? You know who – what she is..?”

“ _What_ I am?! I-“ Arya was quickly stopped when the Queen put her hand out, her face a steel mask.

The younger woman turned around in frustration, rubbing her hand through her hairs as Daenerys spoke.

“Arya is a friend, Lady Melisandre. She has saved my life more than once now, and has proven to be a valuable asset to our cause. I trust her…” She was glad to see the girl calm down from the corner of her eye as she continued, “You, on the other hand… I don’t know you, and thus far I have found no reason to trust you.  So,… Why don’t we start with this friend of hers, the child you… bought?”

Melisandre nodded slowly, a serious look on her face now. “Of course, your Majesty, I apologise… I only hoped you knew about the darkness inside of this killer… As for the boy, Gendry: he was the bastard son of Robert Baratheon, my then king Stannis needed him for the coming war.”

“And he-“ Daenerys asked, noticing how Arya was beginning to fidget again next to her.

“Oh, he yet lives, of course. He was allowed to leave the castle quite soon… I’m not entirely certain where he went, though… A young man like him can go anywhere he wants… But he was unharmed when he left us.”

She smiled afterwards, happy to have resolved the situation. Daenerys was inclined to join her, when Arya spoke again.

“Unharmed when he left you, you say?” The assassin glared at the red woman, frowning, trying to find the truth. “I don’t believe you. You’re evil, I know it, I can see it in your eyes.”

Melisandre looked shocked, but laughed regardless. “Says the killer.” She shook her head, focusing on the Queen again. “I speak the truth, your majesty, the boy was unharmed and free to go. The fact that this soulless assassin believes otherwise should be no reason for you to distrust me. Years of killing have obviously distorted her mind, she cannot-“

The rest of her words were interrupted when Daenerys heard the sound of a sword being unsheathed.

“Distorted mind? Soulless assassin?” Arya looked furious as she marched forward, pressing her sword under the red woman’s chin, pushing her back against the table. “You dare speak to me like that?”

“Arya, wait-“ the silver-haired woman tried to cut in, putting her hand on the girl’s shoulder, only to have it shrugged off again.

“No, I will not. This woman took Gendry, and I know she hurt him, I can tell. She is evil and does not deserve to live.”

The young woman prepared to kill her, when Melisandre suddenly spoke up.

“You could kill me, Arya Stark. If the Lord of Light wants it so, I shall die. But know this: if you kill me, you kill the only reason your brother is alive right now.”

This did stop Arya. Grey eyes flickered with surprise as she loosened her grip on the sword slightly, letting it drop to the woman’s chest.

“You…”

“How do you mean?” Daenerys could see realization dawn on her friend’s face, but she did not understand what the woman was talking about.

Melisandre addressed her to explain, although her nervous eyes were still trained on the killer’s sword.

“Her brother, Jon Snow. He died a few months ago. Killed by his own brothers of the Night’s Watch. Thanks to the Lord of Light, I was able to bring him back from the dead.”

The Queen was shocked; she hadn’t heard about Jon Snow – or anyone for that matter – dying and being brought back to life.

“But that’s… Arya, did you know about this?”

The Stark girl was still staring at the red woman in front of her, clearly debating inside her own head.

“I- yeah, I knew… When I was home, my brother didn’t like talking about it too much, but he did tell me about how he was murdered, and how a red priestess brought him back… That was… you?”

When Melisandre nodded, Arya still didn’t move, her expression remaining hard, until Daenerys couldn’t take it anymore and put her hand on the younger woman’s sword-hand.

“Then this is futile. She has saved your brother’s life. You cannot kill her.”

Arya frowned, but allowed her sword to be lowered completely. “I still don’t trust her, though. She’s evil.”

Daenerys moved in front of her now, making eyecontact and allowing the red priestess to step away from a moment. “But do you have a reason behind these allegations, Arya? Did your brother perhaps tell you anything more about her?”

The still frowning woman shook her head. “No, my siblings didn’t really talk about her, aside from the reviving part. But I’m sure they didn’t like her either, and-“

“You don’t need to like her, Arya, but if she is as powerful as you say… If she was able to revive your brother, then I see no reason not to let her help us in this Great War.”

Daenerys could tell the young woman wanted to argue with her, but she wouldn’t let her. From what she could tell, this priestess could truly be an asset in their fight against the dead, even if she didn’t fully trust her.

So even if the young wolf didn’t like her, the Queen saw no reason not to accept the woman’s help.

“You must be tired, Arya.” the silver-haired woman said, looking at the girl pointedly. “It was a long day, and we must leave early in the morning. Perhaps it’s best if you go to sleep now. We will talk more tomorrow.”

“But-“ Arya tried to interject, but Daenerys had already used her eyes to instruct Grey Worm to come and usher her out.

While she still heard the Stark girl protesting against Grey Worm in the background, the Queen turned to a smiling Melisandre.

“So… How do you suggest to help our army in this battle?”


	24. Trust

Once the snow had started to fall, there seemed to be no end to it. A thick layer of white covered the land in a matter of days, accompanied by a constant rush of cold, hard wind.

The Queen’s now large army ploughed on through the snow, their bodies and faces entirely covered to protect from the cold, all gazes aimed downward.

Arya followed at the back of the troop, as covered in layers and fur as the rest of them, but her eyes weren’t focused down – they were focused ahead of her, on the center of the army, where she could at times see a bright blue cloak and silver hairs together with a person entirely in red.

She couldn’t see them all the time – her gaze from atop the horse was higher than usual, but when the people between her and the queen rode too closely together her vision was obstructed.

When she was able to see them, though, she frowned… a deep, unhappy, angry frown.

_Damn that woman…_

For the past few days since Melisandre had come to introduce herself to the Queen, she hadn’t left the woman’s side. When Arya got out of her tent in the morning and looked for Daenerys, the Priestess was already with her, talking animatedly.

When Arya got back in the evening, after her training moments with the dragons – which the queen didn’t even seem to care about anymore at this point – she could see the figures of her queen and that woman move around in the tent.

From the distance, the Stark girl thought she saw Daenerys smile at something the Red Woman said, which caused her to scowl completely now.

_What are they even talking about?_

She couldn’t understand it. It had been days, days of talking and discussing and _smiling._

On one hand, Arya was angry because of the Red Woman. She remembered it like it was yesterday, how she had shown up and taken Gendry away from what the boy had thought would be his purpose in life.

How he screamed to release him.

How the woman had smelled of blood and … _pure evil_ when she had touched her.

She had recognized her the moment she stepped into the tent the other day. It took everything in her not to kill the woman where she stood, right there and then.

But she hadn’t. She had thought that after everything that had happened, how the queen disliked her killing people, that she should wait until she had explained everything so the queen could see she had a reason to kill this woman.

And then Melisandre had dismissed her reasons like they were nothing… Sure, her words seemed true enough, and maybe Gendry did get out ‘unharmed’, but Arya was still certain something horrible must’ve happened to her friend. She could just feel it.

And the queen…

_She chose to trust this Priestess over me. A stranger, after only a minute! Over me!_

 The young assassin clutched the reins hard, wringing them in her hand as she continued staring forward.

That was the second, almost equally big problem she had with the arrival of this woman:

the change in the Queen.

Before, they had been doing well. They had been able to bond over the dragons, even joke around a bit, they had even had that heart to heart… that kiss…

Arya’s mind had a tendency to go back to that moment, causing her face to get hot straight away, forcing her to think of other things.

Safe to say, though, was that they’d been getting along. Even more, the young assassin had grown to truly care for the woman, and up until that red woman had come along, she’d been certain that the queen somewhat cared for her too.

Now, though… Even while Arya was still there, Melisandre was speaking bad of her, pointing out things about her that were horrible, albeit true.

So what she’d been saying about her in these past few days… the Stark girl wasn’t really sure she even wanted to know. All she knew was that since the Priestess had come into the picture, the Queen hadn’t come to see her.

Or had even informed about her or the dragons.

It irked her immensely.

When the troop finally stopped to make camp, Arya could almost smile.

She jumped off her horse, quickly gathered up her stuff and put up her tent, and then hurried over to her dragons.

Now that winter had truly come, the days had gotten shorter, so she knew she only had a few hours of sunlight left to spend with the animals before she couldn’t see enough to train them anymore.

When they greeted her – happily, as the young woman imagined it – Arya immediately went to release them from their chains and petted them all on their large heads.

These past few days, her habit had been the same: greet them, feed them, fly them.

As she was feeding them today though, she already knew that flying was out of the question today.

A point made especially clear when an almost ‘soft’ nudge from Drogon’s wing as she thoughtlessly walked next to him while he was eating had her practically fly through the air and fall on her back meters from where she had stood before.

Groaning as she laid there for a moment, too numb to even try to get up, she suddenly heard the crunch of footsteps in the snow above her head.

When she opened her eyes, she saw worried eyes staring back at her.

“Are you okay, Arya?”

Arya’s heart deflated slightly when she noticed that it wasn’t Daenerys towering over her, but Missandei. She quickly pushed her disappointment far away, though, and smiled at her friend.

“Yeah… Yes, I’m fine.” She got up now, slowly, shaking off the snow. “I was just…”

“Being reckless again?” the translator’s eyebrows were raised high, but the younger woman was sure she could see a smile shine through.

“No, not this time,” Arya smiled back, cracking the kinks out of her neck. “Just not paying attention, I guess.” She yawned as she spoke the last word, shaking her head to get herself focused again.

Missandei, for her part, looked worried. “Still not able to sleep well?”

The assassin looked at her for a moment, but shook her head afterward.

“To be honest… No, not really… I keep having the same weird dreams… Probably because of the snows, though, nothing to worry about.”

The last part she added for good measure, to make sure her friend didn’t feel like looking into those dreams any deeper.

She herself, on the other hand, had been trying to look deeper.

Every night she dreamed of the wolves now. Every night, it was like she herself turned into one, running through forests and snowy hills.

And every morning she woke up with a start, still feeling like she could smell the winter air, smell her prey, hear all the sounds of the woods.

And every morning she felt like she hadn’t slept a wink, but instead had in fact been running around the forest.

So at this point, Arya was just very – _very_ – tired.

Too tired to even fly the dragons, she had quite painfully noticed; when she was flying Viserion earlier that day, she had fallen asleep on his back, immediately begun dreaming about the wolves, and then had to forcibly make herself wake up when she realized she was still supposed to be flying.

Missandei, of course, didn’t need to know about how Viserion had almost flown her all the way back to King’s Landing while she was dozing off.

Her worry was already big enough when she only thought the girl was riding her horse while being tired – like she was right now.

“You always say there is nothing to worry about, but you do seem to be getting worse, Arya… Maybe you shouldn’t drive tomorrow. I can talk to Grey Worm, ask him if you could sleep in one of the food carriages?”

Arya immediately shook her head at the woman’s words, stifling another yawn as she did so. “No, no, that’s alright, Missandei. I’ll be fine, honest.” She smiled for good measure as she continued, and tried to make herself look as cheerful as she could. “I’ll just go to sleep early tonight, there’s too much wind for me to fly right now anyway, and by tomorrow I’ll be as good as new, promise!”

Her promise was of course a lie, as she was sure she would be having another wolf-dream tonight, but the rest was true, so she figured that was as close to the truth as she could get.

And her friend seemed happy to hear those words, at least.

Missandei smiled as she adjusted her scarf. “Very well, then, I’ll leave you to it. Have a good night, Arya.”

The young assassin smiled as her friend turned, but on impulse she stopped her.

“Oh, Missandei, hang on….” The older woman turned around with a knowing smile, as if she had guessed that the girl wanted to ask more questions.

… Which Arya had actually done these past few days whenever Missandei came to see her.

“Yes, Arya?” Even though the translator knew exactly what the young wolf wanted to ask, she still waited for her to begin talking.

The younger woman frowned as she hesitantly asked her question: “What… How is everything going with the Queen? Is she… Has that Red Woman said something… interesting today?”

Missandei smiled as she shook her head. “You do this every day, Arya. I haven’t been around them the entire time, but no, as far as I know they haven’t talked about you. Just like these past few days, they have been discussing the upcoming war, the White Walkers, possibilities of help from the Lord of Light… Everything you would expect from conversations between a Queen and a Priestess.”

When Arya kept frowning, the translator continued, her large smile turning into a softer one.

“Honestly, Arya, if it’s so important to you, why don’t you go see for yourself? Her Grace considers you her friend, she wouldn’t turn you down, you know..”

The assassin huffed. “Oh, really? Then why has she been turning me down these past few days?”

That was an exaggeration on Arya’s part: she had gone to see the woman twice. Only twice.

Once to discuss the Red Woman and how she was still convinced she was evil – a discussion the Queen immediately shot down (possibly because Arya immediately began by elaborating on how she felt she should kill her).

And the second time Arya didn’t even try to bring up the woman: she simply wanted to ask if the Queen might like to try flying her dragons now they were more or less trained – after all, it was a matter of days before they finally reached Winterfell. But at that moment, the Queen was in an ‘important meeting’ and had ‘no time to speak with her’.

So Arya had stopped trying to talk to her, and simply spent her time sulking.

Missandei didn’t need to know that, either, though.

“Look, Missandei, she’s busy, I get that, so I won’t be bothering her anymore. The war is almost upon us, and preparation is key. I just want to make sure that this woman isn’t putting strange thoughts into her head. So just… Look out for her, okay? Make sure that evil Priestess doesn’t push her into doing anything strange. Please?”

Arya ended her words with full honesty, which made it even weirder when she saw that her friend’s smile fell at the end.

“Missandei…?” the young wolf asked, eyeing her friend suspiciously, “What are you not telling me…?”

The translator stepped back a bit, looking to her right to avoid looking into the intense grey eyes.

Arya didn’t back down, though, and stepped closer now, forcing her friend to look at her.

“Missandei… What’s going on?”

The older woman looked up for a moment and sighed. “I… I wasn’t supposed to tell you… The Queen asked me not to tell you- Not because it’s anything dangerous!” she added quickly, seeing how Arya’s face turned into a frown, “But because she knew you wouldn’t like anything the woman suggested, especially…”

The assassin was trying not to sound too angry as she responded. “Especially what?”

Missandei looked at her sheepishly. “A ritual for the Lord of Light. Just Melisandre and the Queen, no one else can be there. A special one that will allow the Queen to see the White Walkers, to see what we’re actually up against, and how we can best fight them and-“

“When?” Arya felt her heart constrict as she heard the woman’s words, and grabbed her by the shoulder to urge her to tell her. “Missandei, _when_?!”

The translator’s eyes turned sad when she answered.

“Tonight.”

 

* * *

 

Daenerys and Melisandre were standing outside the Queen’s tent, packed up and dressed for the cold snowy night.

“Oh no… Missandei…” the Queen said to herself softly, as she saw a fuming Arya march over to them, followed by the translator hurrying after her, looking guilty.

She could see the anger radiating from the girl’s eyes, and straightened her back as she reached her.

“Good evening, Stark.” she said, her face a cool mask while the younger woman looked like she was about to explode.

“’Good evening?’ Good-“ she could see Arya stop herself for a moment, breathing in as she clearly forced herself to calm down.

After a moment, the young woman smiled. “Yes, good evening, your Grace. A lovely evening, quite cold, perfect for staying inside. Not perfect, though, for going into the woods with a suspicious woman to perform a _ritual_.”

Her voice grew gradually louder as she spoke, showing how passionate the girl was about the entire situation.

Daenerys appreciated the obvious care the girl felt towards her, but in this situation she felt like it was somewhat misplaced.

Yes, it wouldn’t have been right to trust the Priestess straight away, which was why the Queen had spent so many hours taking to her, learning the truth about her, learning about the upcoming war.

And by now, the more she knew, the more she was convinced that Melisandre could help them.

Which was why she had agreed to doing this ritual: one that would help her get more insight into the enemy.

“She is not a suspicious woman, Arya, not to me. We have spent a lot of time talking, and I have learned to trust her. I don’t need you to feel the same way, but I would appreciate it if you could trust me, your Queen.”

The younger woman seemed taken aback a bit by the response, but underneath her frown her determination was still clear.

“I trust you.” She said, defiantly. “Of course, your Grace, that’s not the point. The point is that you’re going into the woods with this woman, _alone_. You’re the one true Queen of Westeros, you should not go anywhere without a guard to accompany you! Especially at night, during winter!”

Arya almost grinned now, but held herself back. She knew she had them now, when she saw worry appear on Grey Worm’s, Missandei’s and the other bystander’s faces. Trustworthiness of the Red Priestess aside, there was no denying that going out into the woods without any protection would be irresponsible and just plain dangerous.

“Why don’t you join us then, Lady Stark?”

The young wolf’s head whipped to the side.

Melisandre had been watching their interaction quietly the entire time, her dark eyes constantly focused on Arya, and now she had finally spoken, the Stark girl could barely believe she’d heard right.

“Wait… What?” Both the assassin and the queen looked at the priestess in surprise.

The Red Woman simply smiled. “Why don’t you join us? This ritual is reserved only for royal blood, which is why we need to do this unaccompanied by any guards. But up until recently, the Starks were also considered royal blood… The Lord of Light will not mind if you are there to protect the Queen.” Her smile stayed on her face as she tilted her head to the side, locking eyes with the younger woman. “Unless, of course, you don’t feel you’re up to the task of protecting the Queen..?”

Arya was dumbfounded as the woman spoke, but at her last words she shook out of her stupor and frowned.

“Of course I can protect her! Who do you think I am?!” She quickly continued before the Red Woman could comment on that last part. “Yeah, I’ll come with you, of course I will. That’s the only way I can make sure she’ll be safe-“

_Safe from you._

The assassin wisely left out that last part, and simply looked at the two other women determinedly.

Daenerys, for her part, simply sighed as she acquiesced. “Very well then, if you are ready, Arya-“ the girl nodded, not wanting to go back to her tent and then find out that the women had already left – “then we leave now. Grey Worm, you are in charge until I get back. Melisandre… lead the way.”

As she followed the Red Woman, with Arya right behind them, the Queen finally stopped hiding her smile, happy that the girl would be going with them.

She trusted the Priestess, sure… But having Arya with her made her feel much safer, especially when she had no idea what to expect from this ‘ritual’.

 

* * *

 

 

After about an hour – although it felt like more to Arya – night had fully fallen, and the moon shone brightly above them.

They had been riding through the woods for a long time, and were told to leave their horses a while back, ‘so they wouldn’t disturb the ritual’, which was why they were now almost wading through the thick layer of snow.

The young wolf’s feet felt cold as ice as she ploughed on, and she cursed to herself as her feet got colder and colder.

_I should’ve gone back to my tent and gotten some better boots…_

When she looked over to Daenerys, she figured the woman would be even worse off – after all, this was the first winter the Queen had ever seen.

Surprisingly, though, the silver-haired woman seemed completely undeterred by the biting cold.

Her clothes seemed even thinner than Arya’s, and yet the woman looked downright comfortable – just like the Red Woman, but the Stark girl chose to ignore that part.

She tried to stay silent – after all, she was still sort of angry with the queen – but after a while, she couldn’t help herself.

“How are you not freezing?”

Daenerys’ head snapped to the side, surprised at the sudden interruption of the silence, but she smiled as she girl’s words sunk in.

“Do dragons freeze, Stark?” she asked, an amused look on her face when the girl smiled.

“Well… No..” Arya conceded, looking puzzled, “But neither do direwolves, and _I’m_ freezing my ass off here.”

The Queen chuckled. “That’s not the same, though. Targaryens are like dragons, we are one with them, we have the blood of the dragon. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of Starks who were actually wolves… Have you?”

Arya’s face grew red as the woman spoke, and she looked away before she answered. “I… No, I guess that is different from your family.”

Daenerys noticed that the girl seemed to grown uncomfortable because of her question, and wanted to ask her why when the Red Woman in front of them suddenly interrupted.

“We have arrived.”

The two other women looked up. As Melisandre spoke, a fire was suddenly lit in front of them, bringing light to the clearing in the woods.

In its light, they could see that they had arrived at some sort of shrine: a table with a large bowl in it which was now on fire, some strange symbols painted on it. On either side of the shrine, there was a large, unlit pyre.

“Come, the moon is high… We are just in time to begin.”

As the Red Priestess stepped forward, Daenerys immediately followed, drawn to the fire.

Arya stayed back a bit, though. She felt strange, her hairs were standing on end, and every part of her skin was tingling.

This place, this entire situation gave her a bad feeling.

“Arya,” she was snapped out of her stupor when the queen called her from her place by the altar, “Come join us. The fire will help you get warm.”

The young wolf wanted to go against her. She wanted to tell the silver-haired woman about her reservations about this place, about the bad feeling she was getting about this entire ritual.

Unfortunately, though, she could see in the woman’s eyes that she was determined to go through with this, so Arya simply straightened her back and went to join them.

When she stood next to the altar, Melisandre smiled darkly.

“Very well then… let us begin.”

As they stood there, waiting, the Red Woman began gathering things from her bag.

Arya couldn’t keep watching her in silence, though, and frowned as she asked a question she’d been wondering about.

“What is this place? I mean-“ she added quickly, before the Priestess could berate her for asking a stupid question at this time, “I realise that it’s a shrine for your Lord of Light, sure. But how is it conveniently located only miles away from where we were camping out? I didn’t think there were that many shrines in the North?”

The woman simply smiled as she finished pouring three cups.

“The Lord of Light has many followers, even in the North, Lady Stark. And the more followers, the more shrines are built.” She handed them both a cup, keeping one for herself.

Arya looked at her warily, and even Daenerys didn’t drink straight away.

Melisandre herself smiled, though, and drank the cup’s content in one go.

Violet eyes locked with worried grey ones as she brought her own cup to her lips.

“Don’t worry, Arya, it’ll be alright. Trust me.”

When the Queen drank, the young assassin set aside her own worries and quickly followed suit.

As soon as she swallowed, though, she knew something was wrong.

“What have you given us?!” She shouted, grabbing the Red Woman by her neck.

Her strength was fading fast, though, and the woman made her loosen her grip rather easily.

Melisandre’s grin was dark as she answered.

“Don’t worry, child, you’re safe in the arms of the Lord of Light.”

Arya’s knees buckled and she fell down, her head fuzzy and her sight clouded over.

The last thing she saw was Daenerys in a similar state lying next to her. She tried to reach out to the woman, but was only able to reach her hand, which she limply grabbed.

As her eyes fell closed, she could vaguely hear Melisandre speak from above her.

“The night is dark, and full of terrors, but the fire burns them all away…”


	25. Fire

Arya’s mind was clouded. She felt drowsy and disoriented, unsure of where she was or what she was supposed to be doing.

Her eyes flickered open, but were too heavy to keep them that way. Everything seemed foggy, and there was a strange buzzing in her ears.

_What… where am I?_

She felt herself breathe in and out, slowly, shallowly, and tried to focus on her own breathing.

The first thing she distinctly smelt was fire.

The assassin took a deep breath, and then focused on the sounds around her, meanwhile trying to get feeling in her hands again.

She could hear her own breathing mainly, her own heart thumping loudly in her chest, and next to that… wind rustling through leaves and – very faintly – footsteps.

Forcing her eyes open, she could vaguely see a bunch of wood below her. She noticed she was standing up, and that the reason why she was unable to move, was because she was tied with to something behind her back.

It still barely registered with her, though. She was only shaken out of her numbness the bottom of a red cloak went through her line of vision.

_Red… The Red Woman!_

She blinked roughly a few times, throwing her head up and against the large pole that was holding her in place. The pain in the back of her head was enough to shake off the last bits of drowsiness, and the sound of it was enough to draw the attention of the woman in front of her.

Melisandre smiled sweetly as she heard her prisoner wake up. “Well, well, lady Stark, you have woken up surprisingly quickly.”

Arya watched as the priestess moved toward the shrine again, carrying objects she couldn’t quite distinguish from where she was standing.

Following the woman with her eyes, the young assassin tried to take in her surroundings. The shrine was filled with unknown objects, and below it she could clearly make out her own weapons and belongings, as well as the queen’s.

Suddenly nervous, Arya looked up frantically, trying to find her only to see that the silver-haired woman was just a few meters away, tied up to the other pyre that was right in front of her.

By the dim light of the torches the younger woman could immediately see that Daenerys was unconscious, her head hanging down, her body only kept upright by the ropes around her arms.

The girl scowled. “What have you done with her? If she is dead, or hurt, I swear I will…”

“Kill me?” The Red Woman continued to smile as she stepped away from the shrine to face Arya. “Yes, I know you’d like that, little wolf, but there is really no need. I will do no harm to you, unless I need to.”

Arya huffed. “Yeah, you drugged me and tied me to a stake only to keep me safe.”

Melisandre’s smile grew. “I understand this is hard for you to believe. After all, you’ve only known darkness in your life. But trust me when I say this was never about you.”

Realisation dawned on her as the younger woman looked past the priestess. “The Queen.”

When she saw the woman nod in agreement, Arya got angry again. “Why, though? You said you wanted to stop the army of the undead! You need the Queen if you want to stand a chance against them.”

The red woman shook her head. “No, I don’t. Her armies, her dragons, yes, they are of use to our cause. But what I need is a Prince… The Prince that was promised, Azor Ahai come again… Your brother.”

The young Stark was completely dumbfounded. “My… my brother? You mean Jon?”

The priestess nodded, but didn’t speak anymore. She simply stared, waiting for the girl to continue.

“But my brother doesn’t want to be king! And he definitely doesn’t want you to kill Queen Daenerys just to make him king! He will not agree to this, ever!”

Melisandre’s smile faltered this time, and she looked down for a moment. “Oh, I know he wouldn’t agree to this. Lord Snow and I… We’ve had our differences in the past. But-“ the woman looked up, and Arya was surprised at the fierceness in her eyes. “- Jon Snow is the Prince that was promised. He is the one who will stop the darkness, but he as much as he wants to, he cannot do this alone. He needs the Lord of Light to guide him… He needs me.”

Her voice grew louder with every word she spoke. “I am the only one who can help him defeat the army from beyond the Wall. With royal blood I will create a weapon more powerful than anything in this world.” She gestured wildly, pointing at a blade that was lying on the shrine. “With Queen Daenerys Targaryen’s death, I will give him Lightbringer, and Jon Snow shall save us all.”

“So you betray me… for a sword?”

Arya’s eyes shot up when she heard the words. In front of her, she could see that the Queen had finally woken up, her violet eyes flickering with anger and fire.

The priestess, on the other hand, seemed undisturbed and smiled as she turned to the other woman. “No, Your Grace, not just for a sword… I am doing this to save this entire world.”

Daenerys huffed, still a bit drowsy from the drug but getting angrier by the minute. “All the talks we had… About battle tactics. About defeating these White Walkers… All of that was-“

“True.” The woman smiled, stepping closer to the Queen. “I meant every word of it. Your army will need to strike hard, your dragons will be needed to cut down most of their forces. Your part in this war will simply be… slightly different.”

“You cannot kill her, Melisandre!” Arya shouted, trying to draw the woman’s attention. “My brother will never use a sword that was created from the blood of the Queen, NEVER! When I tell him what you’ve done-“

“This is very unexpected, Lady Stark.” Melisandre interrupted. “I would have thought that a killer like you would understand the benefits of this immediately.” She turned around and moved toward the young woman again, her eyes darkening as she spoke. “The situation is perfect: I kill the Queen, create a sword that will guarantee your family’s victory, you will lead the dragons that have by now grown so accustomed to you, and you and your brother will unite both the North and the South under the Stark banner, fighting the Greatest War this world has ever seen.”

When she was finished talking, she was standing at the foot of Arya’s pyre. Close enough for the girl to spit in her face.

“Never.” The young wolf snarled the word dripping with hatred, her grey eyes burning with fire as she watched the priestess recoil.

Melisandre seemed surprised. “How unexpected of you… Killed so many, and yet this one life…”

The red woman turned to her left, her gaze switching between Daenerys and Arya. “Unless…”

She smiled as she caught the young Stark’s eyes staring at the Queen, her sad frown not lost on her.

A laugh escaped the Priestess. “I cannot believe this.” She smiled, looking between a defeated Stark and a clueless Targaryen. “You _feel_ for her!”

She pointed at Arya as she spoke; the girl looked like a deer caught in headlights, her eyes flickering up to see the surprise in Daenery’s, only to quickly focus on the red woman in front of her again.

“You, with your heart so dark that even R’Hllor couldn’t save you from it… You have feelings for the Queen. A wolf, feelings for a dragon… Unbelievable…”

She grabbed Arya’s face, staring deeply into her eyes. “How could I not have seen this before. It is so obvious… ”

As she let go, she shrugged. “Then I guess I have no other choice. If you will not follow my plan, and join me in aiding your brother, I suppose I have no reason to keep you alive.”

While Melisandre walked to the shrine again, the young Stark’s mind was still clouded with anger… and fear.

_She read me… And now Daenerys… She knows…_

Arya stared ahead, locking eyes with the violet ones in front of her. In them, she could see her own feelings reflected.

Anger, fear… and determination.

Before Arya even realized why the Queen had that determined look in her eyes, she heard the woman’s voice.

“Wait, Melisandre!”

The Red Woman turned to face Daenerys once more, the sword and a torch already in her hands.

The Stark girl watched in shock as the silver-haired woman raised her head, and stood up as straight as she could.

“There will be no need for you to kill Arya.” If the priestess was in any way surprised, she didn’t show it. Arya, on the other hand, frowned.

“Your Grace, no-“ She said, quietly, only to be ignored by Daenerys.

“Kill me, create your sword and give it to Lord Snow. Arya will lead my army and my dragons, and together the North and the South can save Westeros.”

“Your Gr-“

The younger woman tried to speak again, only to be interrupted by a smiling Melisandre.

“A wise choice by a wise ruler, your Grace. However, I cannot be certain that your protégé will in fact do as you say.”

Daenerys steeled her jaw, a determined look in her eyes as she looked into Arya’s grey fearful ones.

“Arya-“

“No” the girl said, shaking her head. “Don’t even dare to say-“

“Arya” the silver-haired woman said, her face a steel mask although Arya could see her eyes betrayed a pool of emotions.

“No! Whatever this war may bring, this is not the way! I will not let you do this, I will not let _her-_ “

“Arya!” The Queen shouted, effectively shutting the girl up, although a deep frown was still plastered on her face. “This is the only way. The only way for us to win this war, and the only for me to be sure that my dragons are well taken care of.”

The younger woman continued to shake her head. “Your Grace, no… How could you… How could I ever…?” Her lip started to quiver, although she did her best to keep the tears at bay. “I don’t want you to die, Daenerys.”

The Queen took a deep breath as she heard the words, the small quiver in the always so intimidating assassin not lost on her. She did her best to ignore it, though.

“Promise, Arya. Promise that when this… this _ritual_ is over…” Daenerys could barely say the word. It only made her remember how foolish she had been.

_If I had listened to her… If I had trusted her over this Red Woman this wouldn’t have happened… We would both be safe now…_

“Promise that you will lead my army, lead my dragons and aid your brother in defeating the White Walkers.”

The younger woman continued to shake her head, looking down. “No, no, no..”

Daenerys couldn’t take it anymore, she needed this to end now. “Look at me, Arya… Please” She asked, tears beginning to roll down her face now. “Arya, please, look at me!”

Finally, the girl looked up, immediately sucked in by those tearful violet eyes.

“Promise me, Arya… Promise you’ll be safe.”

After moments of staring into one another’s eyes, Arya finally looked away, giving a hint of a nod.

At the movement, Daenerys sighed, smiling slightly as the tension left her body.

With this, she could be certain the girl would live.

“Well done, Your Grace. It seems the girl will live, after all.” Melisandre smiled, suddenly standing right in front of the Queen.

“It is time, then, Your Grace. For the Night is Dark, and full of terrors… But the fire burns them all away.”

Arya watched the scene in front of her as if it was happening in a dream.

One moment the woman she cares for is smiling at her, violet eyes full of emotion.

The next moment that same woman’s eyes grow wide in pain as the Red Woman carves a line into her stomach, with the same sword she then places underneath her, as if to catch every drop of blood that falls.

And shortly afterwards, the pyre that is holding the woman is set on fire, flames quickly licking at the woman’s feet.

In her dazed state, it took a moment for the situation to sink in.

When it did, though, Arya couldn’t keep it in anymore and she began to scream.

“NOOO! YOUR GRACE!!” She shouted, tugging at the ropes, trying to get herself free.

She pulled so hard that she could feel her wrist start to bleed, she even imagined she could feel her bones begin to break from the sheer force she was using.

But the ropes didn’t budge.

“YOUR GRACE!” She watched as she flames came up to the woman’s shoulders now, her face hidden by the smoke. “YOUR- DAENERYS!!! DAENERYYYS!”

She pushed and pulled as she shouted, not even realizing what she was doing anymore, only thinking of how she wanted to break free. How she needed to save her queen.

“DAENERYS! AAAH!”

She felt herself grow wild, pushing and pulling and trying to claw her way to freedom. Even her shouts seemed to turn into howls.

Until, suddenly, she had no more voice to shout with.

Suddenly, she wasn’t tied to a pole anymore. She was free, running through the woods on her four feet.

Hurrying towards… fire.

It took her a moment before Arya finally realized it.

_They were never dreams… This is… I am… Nymeria_

She looked up determined as she at last knew the meaning behind her dreams. Her heart felt overcome with joy at the way Nymeria had found her, and had already began rushing toward her in her time of need.

But now wasn’t the time for pride, or happiness.

Now was the time for action.

At her speed, she reached the fire in no time, and immediately went for the Red Woman.

It pleased her to see the shock on the priestess’ face as she entered the clearing, and it pleased her even more to see the dark drops of blood appear when she clawed at her chest, tearing off the ugly necklace in the same move.

Her instinct made her follow the woman as she fell to the floor, but her human side stopped her quickly and turned her around.

She could still see Daenerys’ body in the flames, and made a calculated risk by simply putting all her strength in her hind legs and jumping toward the woman; effectively pushing the pole that was holding her up and the queen herself out of the fire.

When they fell down, Arya quickly scrambled back up, afraid her now massive weight would have hurt the Queen. She stood over the woman, studying her.

_Oh no_ … Arya though, seeing how the silver-haired woman’s eyes were closed. _She’s…_

She didn’t have time to finish that thought, though, because suddenly the woman’s eyes fluttered open.

The young wolf sighed in relief, but quickly stepped back, knowing her current look could frighten the Queen. Gently, she stepped back and dropped her head down to the woman’s hands.

When Daenerys flinched Arya paused for a moment to look her in the eyes in a way she hoped was reassuring, and put her head down again to bite away the ropes that were still holding her hands.

The moment she finished, the Queen sat up and scrambled back a bit, only to stop and throw a puzzled look at the large animal in front of her.

Arya waited for a moment, simply looking her over, trying to see if the woman was hurt very much.

Aside from the wound to her stomach, though, she looked fine, causing the young wolf to throw her a happy look.

Daenerys was surprised, not just by how kind this enormous wolf was being, but also because of its eyes… Those grey eyes looked all too familiar.

The woman looked to her right for a moment and saw the unmoving body of her friend still tied to the other pyre. Then she looked back to the wolf, leaning closer to make sure she was seeing this right.

“Arya… Is.. Is that you?” The Queen asked, holding her hand out to the direwolf.

The wolf carefully walked closer, until she could feel the Queen’s hand on her head.

She looked into the older woman’s eyes, trying to convey who she was.

“I… I can’t believe this… You saved me… Again.”

Daenerys smiled as she caressed the wolf’s head softly, surprising both herself and Arya with the movement, but their moment was abruptly interrupted.

“Well, I can’t believe it either.”

They both looked up to see a woman in red standing in front of the shrine. Although she wore the same clothes Melisandre was wearing, this woman was old, and bald, and utterly hideous.

The wolf immediately stood up again, growling as she went around the fire that was still burning and began circling the strange woman.

Daenerys stayed were she was, too shocked to move. “You… Who are you?”

The ugly red woman smiled as she bent down to retrieve something. “I suppose you don’t recognize me in this form, although I do believe these-“ she said as she pointed to the claw marks on her chest, “should tell you enough.”

The woman laughed as she stood up again, clearly affected by her injury. “The young lady Stark… A warg.” She laughed evilly again. “How unexpected of you, again. I should have known, of course, if I had, then I could have avoided these wounds.”

The woman smiled as she dusted off the necklace she had just picked up, and put it around her neck. “It doesn’t matter, though. The Lord of Light takes care of me.” As she spoke, the necklace back in place, her wounds suddenly vanished from her chest, and her looks went back to normal – as if nothing had happened.

Arya growled as it happened and began to prepare her attack, but Melisandre quickly cut her off by moving toward the pyre, putting a knife underneath the chin of her human body.

The young wolf was stopped in her steps. It was strange for Arya to see, to watch from afar as the Red Priestess held up her lifeless head.

“Oh no, little wolf, attacking me would not be in your best interest right now.”

Melisandre smiled as she watched the wolf growl even louder, but clearly not dare to come any closer.

“Smart beast. You see, lady Stark, I know a few things about skinchangers… Interesting creatures, really. Did you know that when the human body is, say… injured-“ she said as she swiftly stabbed Arya’s body in her right shoulder, causing the wolf to flinch, “- that the person will not feel it until they are back inside their own body?”

The woman smiled darkly as she twisted the knife around, drawing blood. Arya felt conflicted; her instinct was to attack the woman, to kill her where she stood. But she knew that if she did that... the woman would kill her body.

“Yes, you will feel that when you return, little wolf. That is of course,” the woman smiled wickedly, “if I let you return. After all, you did just ruin plans that I have worked months on. Do you know what happens when a warg’s real body is killed while their mind is linked with an animal?”

Arya growled as she woman put her knife to her throat again. “Ah, I suppose you do know, don’t you. If you didn’t, you would have killed me already. Shall we put that theory to the test now, Arya?”

The Red Woman smiled as Arya looked on angrily.

_Go right ahead… Kill me, I don’t care… Kill me, and the moment you kill me, I will bite your throat out._

She didn’t move though, hoping against hope that her body could still be saved, still caring too much to simply give up and die now.

Melisandre pushed the knife deeper, drawing little drops of blood now. “Hmm… Well done, disciplined, like any good silent assassin. What is it your Faceless Men always say?”

The woman’s eyes grew impossibly dark as she moved the knife right above the artery. “Ah yes… _Valar Morghulis_.”

“Not today, bitch!”

Arya watched in surprise when Daenerys suddenly appeared behind the woman, grabbing her by the neck with a rope, effectively pulling her backwards and away from the body.

Daenerys had  been listening, waiting for Melisandre to be distracted so she could move in and pull her away from her friend’s body.

She almost snarled now as she pulled the rope as tightly as she could, furiously trying to force the last breath to leave the red woman’s body.

The priestess was stronger than she expected, though. As they stumbled backward, the woman suddenly stopped resisting and instead pushed herself backwards, hitting her head on the queen’s chin.

As Daenerys toppled back, trying to recover, Melisandre reached on the shrine for a new weapon – only to be stopped by an angry direwolf, who pushed her away from the queen and into the still blazing fire.

Arya watched the woman burn, waiting for the screams of pain and fear to begin.

Instead, the woman smiled wickedly at them again.

“You think the fire can hurt me, foolish girl? I am a Priestess of R’Hllor, the Lord of Light! Fire cannot hurt me!”

“Perhaps not” the young wolf looked up to see the Queen walk towards the Red Woman, determination clear on her face. “But a dragon most definitely can.”

Arya watched on in awe as Daenerys stuck her hand into the fire and pulled out the sword.

Melisandre’s eyes finally went wide in shock as she saw the flaming sword burning bright in the Queen’s hand.

“You… Impossible… It can’t be… You’re…”

“I’m Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Queen of the Andals... And you have betrayed me. You have hurt a person I care about. For that, you must die.”

And with that, Daenerys stabbed her sword through Melisandre’s necklace and into her heart, once more turning her into an old, ugly woman, only to let her be consumed by the fire.


	26. Reunited

The fire was still blazing, but aside from the crackling of the wood no sound could be heard.

Daenerys still stood partially inside the flames, staring at where the Red Woman’s body had been only moments ago.

_It’s over… I killed her…_

She continued to stare down, undeterred by the fire licking at her skin. She almost enjoyed the heat; it actually helped calm her after the emotions of the past hour.

It didn’t help the person behind her, though.

“Hey! What are you- Get out of the fire!”

The Queen was startled from her musings when she felt a hand on her bare shoulder, pulling her out of the fire.

On instinct, she immediately raised the flaming sword in defense, only to lower it when she recognized worried grey eyes.

“Arya…” a sigh of relief escaped her when she saw the girl, and her mind was focused again. She wanted to speak, happy to see her friend safe again, but she didn’t get a chance.

“How could you stand there so calmly!” the younger woman spoke, frantically looking the Queen over, rubbing her hand over soot-black spots. “You were burned earlier and when you’re finally out of the fire you just step in again?! How could you! You could’ve gotten seriously hurt…”

Arya’s voices faltered at her final sentence, and she halted her administrations by stopping her hand on the older woman’s arm.

“You… you should’ve gotten hurt..?” Her sentence turned into a question, and her own ash-ridden face looked puzzled as she looked the queen over again. “You’re not hurt at all…”

Daenerys chuckled now, amused at the girl’s confusion. “Fire cannot hurt a dragon... I thought you knew that?”

The young Stark continued to stare down frowning. Something in the back of her mind told her that she _did_ in fact know this, but the sight of her Queen being engulfed in flames just kept popping up into her mind.

Her grey eyes raked over the silver-haired woman’s body again, trying to ensure herself that apart from the knife wound on her stomach she truly hadn’t gotten hurt.

The Queen understood how serious Arya was about making sure she was alright, but the situation she was in right now was too amusing, and after the girl’s eyes scanned her for the fourth time, she couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Are you still checking for injuries, Arya, or is there something else you are looking for?”

Daenerys smiled, her eyebrow arched as she watched the girl snap out of her thoughts with wide eyes. Her face turned a shade darker, the queen could see it even in the faint light of the fire, and suddenly the younger woman turned around toward the shrine, stuttering as she rummaged through the belongings that Melisandre had taken from them.

“I… I was just…” Arya stammered, her gaze cast downward when she turned around with her cloak, draping it around the Queen’s shoulders. “Sorry.”

The assassin mumbled the last part, but before Daenerys could even respond, the girl had turned around again, looking through the contents of her bag as she continued her flustered ramblings.

“Yeah… So I forgot about the fire thing… Glad you’re okay, but the wound on your stomach isn’t looking too great. It doesn’t seem very deep, but I don’t trust that Red Woman’s sword so I’ll just get something to disinfect it…”

She turned back to the Queen, mashing some herbs together.

Daenerys watched her, her teasing smile turning into a soft one as she studied the girl’s focused face.

The events of the night replayed in her head as she stared at Arya, allowing the younger woman to tend to her wound – watching how carefully the girl avoided looking at anything but her wound.

Everything that had happened in only a few hours was simply surreal. Drugged, tied to a pyre, being cut and set on fire… She could barely believe how lucky they had gotten… If Melisandre had decided not to simply cut her in the stomach but to actually inflict a lethal wound… Or if she hadn’t stopped her in time when she was about to slice Arya’s throat… Hell, if she had immediately given Arya a lethal wound and not simply stabbed her in the shoulder, things would’ve-

Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt as she remembered the younger woman being stabbed, and she immediately put her arms out, effectively stopping the girl’s hands.

Arya looked at her, puzzled. “Your Grace, what… Did I hurt you?”

Daenerys rolled her eyes at the question, pulling the girl up and into the light.

The younger woman’s face stayed confused, but the Queen didn’t care as she pushed aside her armour and clothes to bare her shoulder.

As she had expected, the wound Melisandre had inflicted on Arya was much deeper, and still bleeding profusely.

“Oh Arya…” The Queen sighed, watching as the girl pulled her shirt in place again and moved back to her bag. She answered “It’s not too bad, I barely even feel it” at almost the same time the older woman said “Why must you always do this?”

Arya heard her question and shrugged.  “It’s really not that bad. Besides, you’re the Queen. You being safe and healthy is kind of the priority. Just let me finish bandaging up your wound, and then when we get back-“

She stopped talking when she heard a ripping sound behind her. Annoyed by the young wolf’s words, Daenerys took it upon herself to finish dressing her own wound, and she quickly ripped a long strip off the cloak and tied it around her waist, somewhat effectively bandaging herself up.

The girl opened her mouth, trying to argue with the queen, but the older woman wouldn’t have it and effectively shut her up by pushing her to sit down with her back against the shrine.

“Your turn.” Daenerys said, grabbing the herbs Arya had been using earlier and pushing the shirt down her shoulder again.

Arya hissed slightly at the movement, clearly trying – but failing – to hide how much it hurt. “Not too bad, huh?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, I barely even fe-AH!”

She gave a short scream when the Queen rubbed the ointment on her, causing her older friend to frown – and her other friend to howl.

Daenerys all but jumped up when the direwolf showed up from behind her, coming to check up on Arya. He had almost forgotten about the animal, but the younger woman obviously hadn’t.

“Hey Nym, don’t worry, it’s fine.” Arya said, holding out her left hand toward the wolf, which immediately rushed to her side and accepted her old friend’s touch.

The Queen tried to keep her cool when the enormous animal stood next to her, and took a deep breath as she continued taking care of the wound. “Nym..?” She asked, now curious about the relation between Arya and the wolf.

The young Stark smiled as she answered. “Nymeria. She’s… well, my oldest living friend, I guess… I got her when I was a child, but while we were travelling to King’s Landing I… had to let her go.”

Daenerys looked up from the wound for a moment to see her face go sad, and she began to feel for her when a thought suddenly hit her.

“Wait… Is this? Was this one of the pet dogs all you Stark children used to have when you were little?”

Arya laughed, moving her good hand to mock-cover Nymeria’s ear. “Don’t say that!” She turned to her wolf. “Don’t listen to her, Nym, you were much more than a pet dog.”

The Queen shook her head, smiling as she watched the exchange. “So..”

The younger woman turned her head back, her grey eyes sparkling as she locked with deep violet ones. “Yeah,” she said as she looked down for a moment, thinking back fondly of her time with Nymeria in Winterfell. “We got them when we were little. Found them – 6 direwolf pups, one for each of us.” Her eyes grew sad. “And now Nymeria and Ghost are the last ones left.”

Daenerys nodded, knowing that she shouldn’t ask about the others – she could already guess what had happened to them. So she asked about what she truly wanted to know.

“How did you.. Have you always been able to…”

“- Change into Nymeria’s skin?” Arya finished for her, looking down. “Honestly? I don’t know… Tonight is the first time I’ve seen her since… Well, since all my relatives were still alive. I don’t think I’ve ever turned into her, except for the past few days maybe… In my dreams…”

The Queen frowned. “Wait, those wolf-dreams… You think that was actually you changing into Nymeria?”

Arya already began nodding before she realized what the older woman had said. “Yeah… Wait, how do you know about those dreams? You weren’t talking to me!”

Now it was Daenerys’ time to feel flushed. “I… May have asked Missandei to keep an eye on you…” When Arya let out a loud laugh, she quickly continued. “You almost fell asleep on your horse, Arya! Of course I wanted to make sure you were alright. Regardless of everything…”

She shook her head, standing up suddenly, leaving behind a now less amused Arya. “Wait, Daenerys, I’m-“

“I need to cauterize your wound.” The Queen deadpanned, bringing a frown on the younger woman’s face.

“… Okay?” Arya could understand the part where they had to burn the wound, she could’ve guessed that herself. What she couldn’t understand was the sudden change in the woman’s demeanor.

She watched as Daenerys cleaned a dagger and brought it toward the fire. “If I don’t, I won’t be able to stop the bleeding, and you’ll be dead by the time we make it back to the campsite. So…”

The young Stark nodded. “Cauterizing. Got it.”

She waited for a moment to see if the woman would give a hint at her changed behavior, but when she didn’t and simply brought the hot knife toward her she simply shrugged and found herself a stick to bite down on.

Daenerys bent down again, preparing herself to push the knife against the wound, when she suddenly heard a small wine from the wolf that was still seated to her right.

“Will she…?”

Arya turned around for a moment, sending a meaningful look toward her friend. “She won’t attack… I think. She knows you’re a friend and that you’re just trying to help me. It’ll be fine…”

The silver-haired woman nodded again, and when she saw that the girl was biting down on a stick and had a determined look in her eyes, she pushed down hard.

The smell of burnt flesh hit her nose, and her heart hurt as she watched the younger woman’s face contort in pain.

When it was finally over, Arya dropped her head back against the shrine, taking deep breaths to calm herself down.

Daenerys wasn’t much better off. She finished dressing the wound, and by the time she had bandaged it up she left her hands on top of the shoulder, lowering her head onto them.

When the queen didn’t move for minutes, Arya turned her own head towards her, using her left hand to gently touch silver hairs.

“… Daenerys?”

The older woman didn’t move, but spoke so softly that the assassin could only barely understand her words.

“ _I’m sorry…_ ”

Arya frowned. “What? It’s fine, cauterizing a wound isn’t exactly supposed to be painfree. Don’t worry about it.”

Daenerys shook her head as she sat up, her face close to the other woman’s, but her gaze cast downward. “No… Arya, I’m sorry. I owe you an apology… You told me not to trust Melisandre… And yet I chose not to listen to you, I chose to trust her over you… And now here we are, we almost got killed… And you got hurt…”

She looked up, sadness visible in her eyes. “I’m so sorry… About all of this.”

The younger woman shrugged, looking away. “It’s fine-“

The Queen let out a humourless laugh. “That’s the first time I ever caught you on a lie, Stark. No, it’s not fine. You’re my friend, you have saved my life more often that I can remember at this point… I should have trusted you easily, and I didn’t. I’m sorry, and I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me.”

Arya frowned, opening her mouth as if to say something but closing it again quickly.

When the silver-haired woman continued to look down, though, she made her decision. She gently put her good hand out and cupper her face, forcing her to lock eyes.

“Okay, maybe it wasn’t fine… Maybe I felt kind of bad about it… Or very bad, because that Red Bitch was obviously bad news..” She was glad to see her joke brought a slight smile on the queen’s sad face. “But it was never about me, I know that. You’re the queen, you need to gather information from anyone you can, and suck up to lords and ladies on a daily basis. And as the queen, that’s exactly what you did…” Arya became serious again, her grey eyes soft as she caressed the older woman’s face. “I hope you’ll take my words as advice in the future, but besides that… I forgive you, Daenerys, truly.”

At her last words, a tear finally fell frown Daenerys’ eyes, and Arya could see her take a deep breath before the woman suddenly leaned in and crashed their lips together.


	27. Feelings

_Daenerys looked up, sadness visible in her eyes. “I’m so sorry… About all of this.”_

_The younger woman shrugged, looking away. “It’s fine-“_

_The Queen let out a humourless laugh. “That’s the first time I ever caught you on a lie, Stark. No, it’s not fine. You’re my friend, you have saved my life more often that I can remember at this point… I should have trusted you easily, and I didn’t. I’m sorry, and I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me.”_

_Arya frowned, opening her mouth as if to say something but closing it again quickly._

_When the silver-haired woman continued to look down, though, she made her decision. She gently put her good hand out and cupped her face, forcing her to lock eyes._

_“Okay, maybe it wasn’t fine… Maybe I felt kind of bad about it… Or very bad, because that Red Bitch was obviously bad news..” She was glad to see her joke brought a slight smile on the queen’s sad face. “But it was never about me, I know that. You’re the queen, you need to gather information from anyone you can, and suck up to lords and ladies on a daily basis. And as the queen, that’s exactly what you did…” Arya became serious again, her grey eyes soft as she caressed the older woman’s face. “I hope you’ll take my words as advice in the future, but besides that… I forgive you, Daenerys, truly.”_

_At her last words, a tear finally fell frown Daenerys’ eyes, and Arya could see her take a deep breath before the woman suddenly leaned in and crashed their lips together._

 

* * *

 

Arya’s head was spinning.

There it was again. That feeling of flying and falling and running, all at the same time. And all without moving from her place.

Her lips moved eagerly against the queen’s, reveling in the warmth and softness of the other woman.

She couldn’t believe it was happening again. That she was lucky enough to once more be this close to Daenerys, to feel her lips again, her warm hands cupping her own cold cheeks.

And this time, she didn’t start the kiss.

She had felt like kissing the older woman, sure enough. It had taken everything in her not to kiss her, but she didn’t think it would be… right.

So when Daenerys suddenly leaned in Arya was shocked, to say the least.

Not too shocked to respond, though. After a few moments her mind was able to catch up, and her lips followed soon after.

And unlike the first time, _she_ had no intention of ending the kiss.

This time, Daenerys felt the same way.

She had crashed their lips together in the heat of the moment, and only had a moment of doubt when the younger woman didn’t return it.

The moment she did feel Arya’s lips move against her own, she felt herself release a deep breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding.

Her relief quickly turned into passion, as she grabbed the girl’s face with both hands, pulling her even more into her.

Their make-out session became more heated by the minute, both women thoroughly enjoying themselves, when the Queen moved her hand down over the girl’s still bare arm and suddenly felt her shiver.

She pulled back slowly and noticed the reluctance in the other girl when she did so.

Arya’s grey eyes went from dark with desire, to angry at the sudden interruption, then to confused, to end with completely closed off.

“Ah… Yes of course, we… We should get back to camp. The others will be worried by now. Let me just-“

As the girl made to stand up, Daenerys pulled her back down gently, making sure to avoid her injured arm.

The young assassin frowned at this. “Your Gra-?”

Before she had a chance to ask what was going on, the queen had grabbed her cloak and tossed it around the both of them, gently draping the soft material across Arya’s shoulders. As she did so, she kept her hands close to the younger woman’s neck, making sure the blue cloak was effectively covering her.

“You were cold.” It wasn’t a question, more an accusation. “Freezing even if your arms are any indication. You should’ve told me, Arya.”

In the faint light of the dying fire, Daenerys could only barely see a blush form on the girl’s face. She turned her face away from the queen and mumbled something.

In any other situation, the queen wouldn’t have been able to understand what she’d said, but with how close they were sitting right now she understood every word.

Daenerys chuckled as she answered. “Not wanting that kiss to end is no reason to freeze to death Arya.”

Her smile grew even wider when the younger woman turned her head again and grabbed the cloak out of her hands, using it to cover her face.

The Queen shook her head, almost giggling. How the girl went from a fearsome assassin, an enormous wolf even, to this cute puppy.

How it had taken her so long to realise something Missandei had already told her back in King’s Landing was beyond her.

She smiled sweetly at the cloak-covered figure, and softly put her hands on the girl’s head, pushing off the cloak.

Arya now had an indignant look on her – still red - face, and rolled her eyes at the queen’s amused violet ones.

“Freeze to death… I’m a Stark, we don’t _freeze_.”

Daenerys chuckled, pushing a wild lock of hair behind the girl’s ear, gently caressing her face as she did so.

“Of course not, my little wolf.” She smiled, her hand cupping the younger woman’s cheek as a thought crept into her mind.

“That reminds me….” Her tone turned serious, which clearly caught Arya’s attention, as grey eyes suddenly became focused. “A few days ago, you kissed me. You told me it was the Stark way of saying thank you…”

Arya nodded slowly, looking down for a moment.

The Queen leaned in closer, their faces barely inches apart now. “Are you sure that was the only reason? Or is it like Melisandre said earlier…” Her violet eyes shone with honesty, and a glimpse of hope. "Do you have feelings for me, Arya?”

When the silver-haired woman uttered the word ‘feelings’, the young assassin clearly reeled back, trying - but failing - to get out of the cloak.

Daenerys arched a perfect eyebrow at the attempt. When Arya saw this, she sighed.

“Your Grace… Look, of course I have ‘feelings’ for you,” she almost spit out the word, as if she could burn herself on it, “Just like Missandei and Grey Worm and your entire army feel for you.” The girl shrugged, trying to seem disinterested at the entire conversation. “It’s no big deal, just like the kiss the other day was no big deal. Like I said, in my family we-“

“So-“ the queen interrupted, looking unimpressed at the young wolf’s explanation. “When we arrive at Winterfell in only a few days, I should immediately greet your brother, Lord Jon Snow, by kissing him passionately on the mouth in order to thank him for sending his best soldier to aid me in battle?”

Arya’s eyes grew wide, and her mouth opened and closed a few times, too shocked to talk her way out of this.

Daenerys waited, her eyebrows still raised expectantly.

“I… I.. Well, of course _that_ wouldn’t be… He’s not… We’re not…” The former assassin began to realise that there was no way out of this situation, so she sighed again, rubbing her hands through her wild hairs.

“No, there is no family tradition where we kiss each other to say thank you. Never has been, and once you’ve been North you’ll realise that kind of intimacy has absolutely no place there.”

She ignored the Queen’s triumphant smile and continued seriously, her grey eyes honest now. “But that doesn’t take away the fact that I’m not the only one who cares for you, Daenerys. And right now, I’m pretty sure they’re all worried sick about you.” Arya nodded to herself as she continued, glad she’d found a way out of the hole she’d dug. “So, I propose we start going back now, so Missandei doesn’t go mad with worry.”

The young woman intended to extend her hand to the Queen and help her get up, happy to have neutralized a dangerous situation, but before she could even try to offer her assistance, Daenerys suddenly engulfed her in a hug.

Arya was in shock, her arms hanging somewhere to the side, flailing a bit. “D… Daenerys?”

From somewhere right next to her ear, in a haze of silver hairs and the strong smell of fire, the young assassin could clearly make out the older woman’s joyous voice.

“I knew you cared.”

Before Arya could even answer, the Queen let go with a big smile on her face and stood up, effectively pulling the girl with her.

The younger woman continued to frown as Daenerys walked back to gather her belongings, but her frown quickly disappeared when Nymeria walked up to her, handing her her parka.

Arya smiled happily as she put on the much appreciated extra layer of clothing, and petted her old friend on the head a few times, before she went to grab the rest of her things.

When she turned around, the Queen was back to normal – although the smile on her face was still very much present – and now stood in the middle of the clearing, waiting for Arya with the no longer burning sword in her hand.

The assassin frowned as she watched Daenerys put it back into its scabbard and tie it around her shoulders.

“You’re taking it with you?”

The older woman nodded, her violet eyes determined. “Of course. It was made from my blood. I think it’s only right that I take it.”

There was nothing Arya could counter against that, so she simply nodded.

“So”, Daenerys said, tightening her cloak again. “It’s a long walk back. I hope the horses will still be where we left them, but I doubt it, so we probably won’t be getting back before sunrise.”

For the first time in a while, the younger woman chuckled.

The queen looked puzzled. “Why does that amuse you? You were already freezing your feet off earlier this evening, it won’t get better when we have to walk even more at an even colder time in the night.”

Arya shook her head. “I can’t believe you want to walk back.” The older woman looked even more puzzled at this, so the girl laughed again. “You want to walk, when we have a much faster mode of transportation!”

Daenerys frowned, until her glance fell on the direwolf, who was still standing next to the young Stark.

“Oh, of course. Do you think your wolf will be able to carry us both?”

Now it was Arya’s turn to look shocked. “Wait, you think I meant Nymeria?” She pulled the wolf closer as she spoke, almost cradling the animal’s head with her good left hand. “I mean, of course she could carry us, but she’s not meant for that. She’s a wolf!”

“Then how else will we get home without walking?”

The girl smiled now, grabbing the horn from her bag. Suddenly it clicked in Daenerys’ head.

“The dragons. Of course you meant the dragons.”

Arya smiled as she blew on the horn three short times. For good measure, she did it a few times and then waited.

As she did so, though, Daenerys frowned. “Wait, Arya, this is useless. It’s nighttime, my dragons are tied up, and you know there’s no way for them to escape.”

The girl smiled again, turning toward the queen after she blew the horn one more time. “That would be true, if they were tied up. Unfortunately – although now fortunately – I was in such a hurry to stop someone from doing something extremely dangerous an stupid, that I didn’t have time to lock them up again. And if I didn’t do it…”

The Queen sighed, smiling as she heard the very recognizable sound of heavy wings flapping.

“Nobody did.”


	28. Safe

The forest seemed peaceful in the pale light of the moon. As Drogon went higher, the air became even cooler, but neither of the women cared at this point.

Arya enjoyed the cool air blowing through her hairs as they flew on, as well as the warm embrace of the queen sitting behind her.

She looked down every once in a while; she had told Nymeria to follow them the moment they left, and the first few moments of the flight she could sometimes still see the wolf speeding through the forest, her grey fur visible in the reflection of the moonlight every other tree.

At this point she couldn’t see her old friend anymore, but the young woman wasn’t worried in the slightest. If Nymeria could find her in her moment of need, when they hadn’t even seen each other in years, Arya trusted that the animal would find her again now.

What did worry her, though, was the wolf’s reaction to the dragons, and vice versa.

When Drogon began to come closer to them earlier, Nymeria began to growl, her hair on end as she took on a defensive position. It had surprised Arya, even though she should’ve known their meeting could never go easy.

A direwolf and a dragon… The most unlikely combination of animals to ever get along.

All in all, Arya was happy that they didn’t end up attacking one another, although that might’ve been mostly due to the immediate distraction the Queen had provided – hugging Drogon close before he even had a chance to growl at the wolf.

The younger woman, for her part, had quickly taken the opportunity to send Nymeria away – much like she had done many years before, although for very different reasons this time.

Arya knew she needed to figure out a way to let the animals get used to one another. She knew both would be needed in the battle to come, and that the dragons and the wolf working together would increase their chances at victory.

Unfortunately, her thoughts of the wolf and dragons and the warm feeling of the woman behind her made her forget about anything useful.

Instead, her mind went back to her ‘feelings’.

She tried to focus on the dragon below her, the incredibly starry sky above, the crisp wind and the sound of the river below them.

Instead, her senses were aimed at the warm embrace, and the sound of her own rapidly beating heart.

“This is amazing.”

Arya was finally pulled from her thoughts when Daenerys spoke from behind her.

The girl was in awe when she looked back for a moment and saw a content smile on the Queen’s face, her eyes glinting in the light of the moon.

“It… Yeah, amazing.” She turned back quickly when she noticed the older woman focusing on her – probably very red – face. “Flying’s the best, right?”

She didn’t dare look back anymore, but could feel Daenerys nod against her shoulder.

“I have flown Drogon before”, the woman said, nostalgia clear in her voice, “But back then it was something of a ‘fly or die’ situation. He saved me, but he flew wherever he wanted to, I couldn’t control a thing.”

She gripped Arya even tighter as she went on. “What you’re doing, making him fly somewhere, actually steering him in the right direction. _That’s_ amazing.”

The younger woman half-shrugged, trying not to move her injured shoulder too much.

In response, Daenerys grabbed her good arm, sitting up straighter so she could talk directly into the girl’s ear.

“It _is_ amazing, Arya. _You’re_ amazing.”

Arya wanted to shrug again, but decided against it; this entire conversation got too close to the feelings-one again, and she wanted to avoid that at all cost.

“You could do it too, you know.” She said, her tone light as she spoke. “I mean, that was the whole idea, that you could do it too, so you could use them in battle or whenever it suits you.”

She looked around for a moment and was glad to see an enthousiastic look on her queen’s face.

“Don’t say you forgot about flying your own dragons, _Khaleesi_ ,” Arya grinned, her eyes on the road again.

A shocked gasp came from behind her. “Of course I didn’t forget, how could I? Seeing you do it simply made it seem as though it wasn’t for everyone. I mean, how do you do it, Arya? Because you look like you’re just sitting, but I’m guessing it’s more than that, right?”

Arya smiled as she began explain the techniques she had come up with. The more she talked about how she decided against a headstall, how she used more tactile techniques, how she had come up with using the horn, the more she felt like a burden was being lifted from her shoulders.

Training dragons, now _that_ she could talk about.

 

* * *

 

Time passed quickly as they flew and talked on. Daenerys barely even noticed that they were almost back at the campsite, too caught up in her young companion’s words, when she suddenly felt them descending.

As she looked down, she saw that Arya was leading them towards the dragon’s site, and the closer they went, the more she saw – and heard – people noticing the three of them.

She gripped Arya extra tight as they went down, on one hand because she assumed it would be a rather rough landing, but on the other hand she was also reluctant to let go of the smaller woman.

Flying on Drogon had been magical, even more so thanks to the person she was flying with.

When they finally hit the ground – less roughly than Daenerys had expected – Arya immediately slid off the dragon’s back, turning around with the clear intention to help the Queen get off easily as well.

The older woman shook her head, smiling as she accepted the offered hand, but her smile soon turned into a frown when she saw the hint of pain on the girl’s face as she tried to put pressure on her right arm.

“Arya… Why must you always have such disregard for your own body? Your shoulder-“

“Is fine, “ Arya said, quickly masking her pain – and the anger she felt for showing it - with a grin.

Daenerys didn’t let up, though, and stepped closer to gently put her hands on the girl’s shoulders.

“The more you use that word, the less I believe it, Arya.” The Queen shook her head, but the wolfish grin the girl still had on her face was infectious, and she couldn’t help but smile. “We will get your shoulder checked out by a healer, and whatever other wounds you still have as well, and then you’ll rest for a few days. That is a direct order from your Queen.”

She ended her words with a serious tone, but smiled regardless when she saw the girl nod.

Before she could even tell what was happening, though, Arya’s eyes grew wide when she looked behind the queen, and the girl suddenly stepped away from her, leading Drogon with her.

When Daenerys looked behind her, she could see what caused the young wolf to walk away: Missandei, Grey Worm and a large group of lords, Dothraki and Unsullied were running up to them, the worry very visible on all of their faces.

When the older woman looked back, she could see Arya was already a few meters ahead and sighed.

“Arya…?” she said, loud enough for the girl to hear her.

In the darkness she could barely make out the girl’s silhouette as it turned around.

“Uhm… I’m just going to get Drogon chained down again, and find Rhaegal and Viserion as well. I’ll.. uh… let you handle your people. They must’ve been worried sick.”

Daenerys shook her head. She wanted to be pissed at Arya, but the closer she heard the voices behind her, the more she wished she could simply walk away as well.

After a few moments she conceded.

“Fine, you take care of the dragons, I’ll take care of our people.” She saw Arya begin to turn around again, and quickly shouted after her . “But you _will_ come to my tent the moment you’re done and let someone take care of that wound. Got it? That’s-“

“The Queen’s order, got it!” She heard the girl shout back, the large grin on her face almost audible.

She watched as the young woman and her dragon disappeared into the night, but when she heard Missandei clearly call out her name, she knew she couldn’t ignore the people behind her anymore.

As she turned around, she was immediately met with Missandei running ahead of the large group, her dark brown eyes worried as she reached the Queen in only a few steps, embracing her the moment she reached her.

Daenerys accepted the hug gladly, happy to see her friend again.

“Your Grace, what happened?” the young translator released her friend, although she did grab the woman’s hands, clearly not ready to let go just yet. “Where is the Red Woman? Where is Arya? You were gone all night and- is that blood? Are you bleeding?!”

The Queen put her hand on Missandei’s arm and smiled. As the others arrived and began gathering around them, Daenerys straightened her shoulders and put a determined look on her face.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.”

 

* * *

 

Arya looked back a few times as she tended to the dragons. She was able to get Drogon back into his chains pretty easily, and when she looked around for a moment she found that Rhaegal and Viserion weren’t too far off either.

It made her happy to know that they wouldn’t only come to her when she called them, but also that they liked her and the queen enough to stay closeby even when they were away.

She was happy to have the distraction of the dragons, especially when the vicious animals where in their chains again in no time, happily munching on some meat, whereas she could see Daenerys was still addressing the large group of people behind her.

Arya had no intention of going back to them now, though. After tonight, she did not need those annoying lords around her, probably asking stupid questions about what had happened.

No, the girl did not envy the queen right now.

When she saw the group walk away, finally, she figured she would wait a few moments and follow when most of them where in their tents again.

Her plan was thwarted though when she suddenly heard low growls coming from her three dragon friends.

Arya didn’t even need to look up to know why the animals reacted this way. She could almost sense Nymeria run over to them across the field, only to slow down a few meters ahead of them when she noticed the dragons.

The tension in the air was suddenly palpable, and could be cut with a knife. The young assassin swallowed drily as she stood in between them, not sure of what she should do now.

Her heart was beating loudly as she held out her hands toward the wolf on the one hand, and the dragons one the other.

“Shh…” She tried, her breathing shallow, feeling more nervous than she had in years. “It’s okay… This… These are my friends.”

She knew they couldn’t understand her, which became especially clear when they all took attack-positions, their fangs bared.

Arya was happy the dragons were tied up now, but she knew that wasn’t enough. Not for her anyways.

These were all animals she had trained; animals she loved, if she was completely honest. She didn’t want them to hate each other.

Battle or no battle, practical or not, she just wanted her wolf and her dragons to get along.

_Because if they could do it…_

After a few tense moments, it suddenly hit her, and she decided to change her approach.

She straightened up and put on the cool mask she was once used to more than her own face and walked over to her dragons. She ignored their growls and sat down in front of them, just outside of their reach.

As she did so, she took one last look at Nymeria before she closed her eyes.

_Please work…_

When she opened them again, she was a few meters away, looking at her own body in front of the dragons.

She could feel Nymeria’s hairs stand on end, could feel the wolf’s every instinct telling her these animals were bad news.

So Arya tried reasoning with Nymeria from the inside, connecting her own memories to the wolf’s, showing her the dragons and her own history with them.

It wasn’t easy. This was the first time she consciously warged into Nymeria, and the first time she actually tried to connect with the wolf itself than just with her body.

But she remembered how Bran had been able to how her the White Walkers in her mind. If her younger brother was able to do it with a person, she’d be damned if she couldn’t do it with Nymeria.

The wolf wasn’t very receptive at first, but after a while, Arya could feel her start to relax. The growling stopped and the animal finally relaxed, no longer feeling threatened.

Arya felt exhausted after it all, and this was just the easy part.

The dragons were a gamble, and this gamble could work out well, or go horribly wrong.

She moved towards them, slowly, trying to keep her movements as un-predatory as possible.

It wasn’t working too well, she could tell.

By the time she was almost in front of the dragons, they were at the end of their chains, snapping and biting at her.

Arya brought Nymeria to her own body, and was almost touched to see that the dragons snapped completely at the sight of the direwolf standing over her body.

They pulled at their chains, howling, trying their best to get out of them.

The girl tried to get their attention, tried to get the animals to focus on her, on her eyes.

But it wasn’t going as planned; the dragons continued to go crazy, ignoring any sign that might indicate that their friend was actually okay and inside the wolf.

When they refused to acknowledge her presence even after minutes of her trying to get their attention, Arya snapped.

“ _DROGON, RHAEGAL, VISERION, THAT’S ENOUGH!”_

Her angry words didn’t come out as words, though. Somehow she had thought to say that while she was still inside Nymeria, and the words had come out as a loud howl.

And somehow, that was enough for the dragons to calm down.

They looked at her, shocked, staring into the wolf’s grey eyes questioningly, clearly looking for something.

When Arya locked eyes with each of them, trying to convey to them who she really was, they finally went completely calm again.

As the young woman went back into her own body, she was glad to see that her animal friends stayed calm.

“Finally, you idiots.” She said hoarsely, a huge grin on her exhausted face as she hugged Nymeria tight.

 

* * *

 

The candle was almost down to the last mark – and Daenerys down to her last bit of patience – when she finally heard the guards outside indicate that Arya was coming.

The night had been hard enough as it was, with her having to explain everything to her people, and then in more detail to Missandei, Grey Worm and Aggo as she was being treated.

Next to their exclaims of worry and promises to ‘never let her go anywhere alone anymore’, Arya not showing up as promised was the last thing she needed.

She sat down in her (mobile) throne, waiting for the girl to make an appearance.

To her surprise, though, she heard the guard outside hold her back.

“Daro, what’s going on?” she called out, throwing a curious look at Missandei, who looked as puzzled as her. “If it’s Arya, let her in!”

Daro cautiously entered the tent, his spear still at the ready. “Khaleesi, I apologize, it is the Arya Stark, but she… has brought a large wolf with her, and I don’t think-“

“That’s fine, thank you Daro, let them in.” She tried hard not to let the amusement show on her face when the guard’s eyes went wide in shock.

He didn’t dare to defy her, though, and let the two of them in, stepping back to give them enough room.

When Arya walked in, looking tired but happy, the Queen smiled softly. “I see your friend has found you again.”

The girl nodded and patted the wolf on the head. “Yeah,” she half-grinned, looking down at her friend for a moment before focusing her tired eyes on the queen again, “I knew she would.”

Daenerys nodded as well and wanted to say more, but before she could see heard a sound coming from her left.

“Um…” Missandei said. She had stood up, but was now clearly uncertain of what she should do, her need to hug Arya suddenly lessened now the girl had a huge animal next to her.

The younger woman turned towards her friend and smiled. “Don’t worry, Missandei, this is Nymeria, she’s a friend. She would never hurt you.”

The tall woman still seemed a bit apprehensive, but after a few moments she couldn’t take it anymore and her face became determined.

In only a few steps she was at Arya’s side, hugging her tightly.

“ _Thank you_ ”, she whispered in the girl’s ear, her voice filled with emotion. “If you hadn’t gone with her…”

Arya flinched slightly as she shrugged, allowing Missandei to hug her for a little longer before pushing her away gently. “Don’t worry about it, of course I would protect her. And besides,” she said, loud enough for the queen to hear as well, “If she hadn’t told you, I didn’t do much saving this time. Apparently ‘dragons can’t be burned by fire’.”

She said it jokingly and was glad to see both Daenerys and Missandei smile. “She saved me more than I saved her this time, so I’m the one who should be thanking her.”

Daenerys smiled at this, but the remark did remind her of the girl’s injury, and she quickly indicated to Missandei to get the healer to take a closer look.

While their friend looked for the healer, Daenerys stood up from her throne and gently led Arya to her bed.

The girl followed meekly, her wolf coming up right behind her.

“Thanks, Daenerys, but my shoulder doesn’t feel too bad really. To be honest, I just want to get to bed at this point. I’m sure the wound has been cleaned out enough already, and it’ll be fine if-“

She was interrupted when the queen put her finger on her lips and gave her a pointed expression.

“Arya, if you say you’re ‘fine’ one more time. Just let us take care of you, alright?”

The girl nodded and yawned, too tired to argue at this point. She let the queen help her out of her parka, although she still tried to hide the pain when she had to move her arm up to do so.

Seeing this, Daenerys sighed.

“Honestly, Arya, admitting pain to the people who care about you is not a sign of weakness, you know.”

The girl shrugged, softly stroking through Nymeria’s fur, who was at this point falling asleep next to the bed.

“That’s not what I’ve been taught.”

Daenerys shook her head as she turned around, putting some water and hot stones in a tub so she could begin washing out the wound – for real this time.

“I don’t understand that. I understand not wanting to show weakness to your enemies, of course.” She sighed, focusing on getting the water to the right temperature. “But to your friends? To me? You know I care about you, Arya.”

She shook her head again as she sought out some herbs. “Or you should know, at least. We may have had our differences in the past, and I did you wrong when I trusted Melisandre’s words over yours…”

She put her head in her hands for a moment, thinking. “I could kick myself for doing that, and not just because she betrayed us. I should have trusted you because you have helped me and saved me from the start, because especially these last weeks you clearly cared for me, and I just didn’t see it.”

She grabbed a few cloths and started wetting them, still not daring to look back at the girl. “Maybe I did see it, somehow. Maybe I thought it was best that I didn’t see it. After all, a Stark caring for a Targaryen?”

She shook her head again, her hands still now. “But now I know that I thought wrong. That I reacted wrongly. I should have realized that you cared for me, and I should definitely have realized how much I care for you. If I had, maybe you and I both wouldn’t have gotten hurt tonight.” She chuckled. “Or maybe we could have had dozens of dragonrides in the moonlight by now. Can you imagine that, the two of us flying away every night, away from all of this. Just us?”

She smiled to herself, but her face went puzzled when she didn’t get any response.

“Arya?”

Daenerys quickly turned around, only to see that her question had fallen on deaf ears.

She shook her head at the sight of the large and little wolf on her bed together, sleeping soundly.


	29. Healed

Arya felt warm and cosy. As if she was laying on a cloud, floating through the air.

Things were a little fuzzy in her head, but she didn’t care. It was as if she didn’t have a single worry in the world.

As her mind started to come back to earth, it began to try and piece together where she was and why she was feeling so good.

_So warm…_ Was the first thing she thought as she came to, her body growing conscious of the warm cocoon of furs she was currently in.

She slowly opened her eyes, keeping her head on the pillow, too lazy to lift it.

The sun was starting to filter through the tent flaps, giving the place a warm glow.

The young woman smiled at the beautiful light, feeling more relaxed than she had in ages.

_I could wake up like this every day…_ She thought, preparing to close her eyes again and go back to sleep.

Suddenly something hit her and her eyes flew open again.

_This isn’t my tent!_

All the drowsiness disappeared from her head when she tried to sit up in a panic, only to give up when she felt an immediate stab in her right shoulder.

_Ow! Son of a-_

Her mental tirade was interrupted when she felt a warm hand on her arm, lightly pulling her back down.

As she looked to her left, she was shocked to see a wave of silver hairs on the pillow right next to hers, and sleepy violet eyes looking up at her from it.

“Relax, Arya… Go back to sleep…”

Daenerys’ voice cracked, still hoarse from sleeping soundly only moments before. She looked at the girl for a few seconds before closing her eyes again, clearly ready to take her own advice.

Arya on the other hand did not share the queen’s calmness about the situation.

Quite the opposite even, her heart was racing in her chest and the hand that still lingered on her arm made her feel extremely queasy.

Her mouth felt dry when she tried to speak.

“Um.. Daenerys? Y-Your Grace, what… Why am I here?”

When the older woman didn’t answer, possibly because she had already fallen back to sleep, the young wolf lifted her good arm up to go through her wild hairs while she thought, studying the queen’s face as she did so.

_I’m here… In Daenerys’ bed… Is this… Am I still dreaming?_

She tried to roll over to get a better look at the other woman, but a shooting pain reminded her that this was most definitely reality.

_So not a dream then. How in seven hells did I get here then? In bed with the Queen, who just continues sleeping like nothing’s happening, even when the sunlight is now hitting her hair and face and eyelashes… Gods she’s beautiful…_

Arya finally calmed down and simply continued to stare at her friend, resisting the urge to reach out and touch the queen’s face, to caress her glowing skin.

At some point – it could have been after minutes or hours, the girl couldn’t tell – she saw the other woman’s eyelids flutter open, revealing curious violet eyes.

This time Arya didn’t try to back out. She simply continued to lay there and locked eyes with Daenerys.

“Why do I get the feeling that you didn’t go back to sleep?”

The queen sounded annoyed, but the slight smile she had on her face betrayed her.

The younger woman grinned right back but stayed quiet, not wanting to ruin the moment.

She watched as Daenerys stretched, still mesmerized by the way the sun made her skin glow, and at the same time worried that she might get up and end… this. Whatever this was.

When the older woman laid back down instead, Arya’s smile grew even larger.

Her smile was infectious: when the queen noticed it she immediately followed suit and gave a sweet smile in return. Unlike Arya, though, she had no qualms about touching the other woman and quickly brought her hand up to the girl’s face, caressing it as she gently wiped some stray hairs away.

Arya’s breath hitched at the sensation, but she didn’t move a muscle. She closed her eyes, trying to hide the emotions that were currently washing over he.

“Do you remember what happened yet, Arya?”

The girl opened her eyes again, grey eyes locking with violet ones as she answered.

“I guess… After I chained the dragons up again and got Nymeria back I came here, as promised, and then I… fell asleep here last night?”

The queen chuckled lightly. “You guessed right.”

Arya smiled as she felt warm fingers trail their way down to her neck.

“Why didn’t you wake me up again?” She tried to joke, overwhelmed by what she was feeling. “I’m pretty sure sleeping in the queen’s bed without her consent is a capital crime.”

Her joke missed its mark though when the queen plainly answered in a low and husky voice: “Who said it was without my consent?”

The younger woman’s eyes widened comically, much to Daenerys’ amusement, but the laughter died in her throat when she saw the pain on Arya’s face as she tried to back away.

Before Arya could even form another thought, the Queen was already off the bed, draping a cloak over her shoulders as she called for Missandei to bring the healer.

The translator and the healer came running in only moments after, apparently un-phased about the young Stark sitting dazedly on the queen’s bed.

Arya simply stared ahead of her as her shoulder was being tended to, too shaken up to hear the healer complain about the state of it, or even to feel the pain as the wound was being cleaned out.

Daenerys and Missandei were somewhere to her left, the latter dressing the Queen, but the younger woman didn’t even dare look in their direction.

_“Who said it was without my consent?”_

She kept replaying the words in her head, her face growing redder by the second while she imagined the sound of the woman’s voice, and the look she had given her.

At this point, she was almost happy when the guy tending to her shoulder pushed a little too hard, causing her to jolt out of her stupor.

“Sorry, my lady, I didn’t mean to cause you more pain.”

Arya shook her head, her head clear again. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it, I barely even felt it. And don’t call me ‘lady’.”

She heard a chuckle coming from her left, but only turned around when she heard Missandei speaking.

“Oh Arya, even with your fighting skills and your giant wolf, you’re still so cute.”

The young woman whipped her head back to scowl at her translator friend, but before she could look even close to angry, she locked eyes with amused violet ones once again and her breath caught in her throat again.

She quickly turned around again, trying to hide the redness on her face.

“I- I’m not cute,” Arya said, trying – and failing – to get her voice to a normal level. Her mind was threatening to wander off again, when a sudden realization hit her. “Wait, speaking of my giant wolf, where’s Nymeria?”

She looked around the tent frantically and tried to get up, only to be pushed down again by the healer.

Him she could easily scowl at, which she did, and she was about to fight her way out of his grip when a gentle hand on her good shoulder stopped her.

“Relax, Arya, Nymeria is fine. Daro saw her leave early this morning, she probably went out hunting, or looking for her pack.” The younger woman looked up at Daenerys, the calm look on the woman’s face - as well as the warm hand on her shoulder - enough to reassure her instantly.

Arya nodded and closed her eyes for a moment. Connecting with Nymeria was easy for her now that she understood their bond, and when she realized where the wolf was she opened her eyes with a shock, a look of complete puzzlement on her face.

The silver haired woman gave her a questioning look, to which she could only answer with a shrug and a smile.

“She’s not out in the woods… Nymeria’s with the dragons.”

 

* * *

 

Arya smiled as she tossed some more meat at Viserion. Feeding the animals with only one arm had been a struggle these past few days, but she’d be damned if she let anyone else feed her dragons.

She could of course easily take her arm out of the sling the healer had created and use both her arms – her shoulder was fine, as she had said a thousand times already – but the Queen seemed to have someone watching her every move, so doing so would definitely be noticed and would definitely bring the Queen’s wrath upon her.

So she’d been struggling a bit, but at this point she was almost as quick as she would have been with two hands.

She tossed the next piece at Nymeria, who caught it mid-air and immediately started chomping happily. Ever since that first night, the wolf and the three dragons had become almost inseparable. Arya had found them together that morning, Nymeria sitting next to the three other animals, looking like she was waiting for them to get out of their chains.

It was amazing to see the wolf run with the flying dragons after Arya had finally freed them. To watch them interact with one another, as if they were old friends.

_In a way, I guess they are… With the special bond Nym and I have, they’ve sort of been connected all this time…_

Arya sat down on a rock for a moment, content to simply sit and stare at her four friends.

_If only every connection were that easy…_

As it had done every day, her mind went back to the silver haired woman.

_Daenerys…_

Daenerys and her beautiful, sweet smile.

Daenerys and the caring look she seemed to have every time she looked at Arya now.

Daenerys and her strong, royal voice, that could suddenly turn ever so low and breathy when she talked to Arya.

Daenerys and her gentle touches, her soft fingers caressing Arya’s hurt shoulder, up to her neck, along her jawline, grazing over her cheeks.

Daenerys and her violet eyes that seemed to glow even brighter the closer she got to Arya.

Daenerys and the hurt expression that suddenly came over her every time Arya backed away again, too overwhelmed by the things she was feeling.

The young wolf looked down sadly, although she adjusted the sling to make it look like she had a reason to look this defeated.

The hurt expression the Queen held was subtle, much more subtle than the touches and the _other_ look she had in her eyes. But it was the one Arya saw the most in her mind.

Every time they had been alone these past few days, Daenerys had tried to get closer to her.

And every time, Arya had backed away with a grin, making a joke about ‘it not being right for a wolf to sleep in the queen’s bed’, or about how she ‘probably smelled of dragons and should really be going back to her own tent, or just making some comment about the cold weather.

She tried to make light of the situation, but time and again she saw the hurt expression on the older woman’s face, and every time Arya walked away quickly, her heart even more pained than the day before.

At this point, Arya didn’t know what to do anymore. This entire situation, the way even just the thought of Daenerys could make her heartbeat speed up, it was too much for her.

Even her dreams were filled with Daenerys, now that her direwolf was sleeping right next to her.

And it wasn’t just the fact that she had these feelings. She’d had feelings of hope and happiness before, but before she had been able to shut them down, to close herself off from everything. Now, however, she couldn’t. She didn’t know why, but she just wasn’t able to get that woman out of her head, to stop the emotions from washing over her every time the woman said or did something.

Arya had never been this scared in her entire life.

Her head held low, Arya closed her eyes, trying –but failing - to calm herself down again.

It was only when she heard a noise coming from behind her that something clicked, and she was suddenly able to school her features into an emotionless mask again -

“They seem to be doing well together,” came the Queen’s voice from behind her.

\- Or as emotionless as she could make it.

Arya smiled and nodded as Daenerys came to sit too closely next to her.

“Yeah… they really are.”

The silence that followed between them was almost deafening to Arya, as it forced her to focus on the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears, and the warm feeling of the woman to her right.

She refused to meet the Queen’s eyes thought and simply continued to look ahead, pretending to be focused on the scenery in front of her.

A few minutes passed between them without a sound, until the older woman broke the silence with a sigh.

Arya glanced quickly to her right as she noticed the Queen get up after this, catching a glimpse of the disappointed look on her face.

“You will be glad to hear that this will be our final night in the tents. By tomorrow noon, we should have reached Winterfell. You can be reunited with your family, at last.”

The young Stark nodded. She had already recognized the landscape and knew it wouldn’t be long before they reached their destination.

“That is good news indeed, your Grace, thank you.”

Daenerys stood next to her for a few moments longer, waiting for something – anything more from the girl.

But Arya simply continued to stare ahead of her, not giving any kind of reaction. The girl could almost feel the older woman almost reaching out to her, she could vaguely hear the woman’s mouth opening and then closing again, without saying a word. And then she could hear a sigh and the swish of her cloak as she left.

The farther away the footsteps sounded, the heavier Arya’s heart became.

Winterfell did mean reuniting with her siblings, her home.

But at some point, it would also mean leaving Daenerys. And despite all her doubts and fears, there was one thing Arya was certain of:

She was not ready to say goodbye yet.


	30. Coming Home

A feeble stream of sunlight lit up the snow as they rode on. For miles ahead of them, the landscape had turned completely white, a thick layer of icy crystals covering every rock and tree.

The Kingsroad was barely visible, but at this point the Queen’s party didn’t need it anymore. Only a few miles ahead of them, amidst all the glowing white snow, stood their destination.

Winterfell.

Daenerys rode ahead of the troop, only a few guards right ahead of her, making sure she would not be attacked in these last moments on the road.

She looked ahead towards the castle and couldn’t help but compare it to King’s Landing. It seemed dark and dreary from here. More a small fortress than the stronghold of the North.

And yet this is where for ages the Starks had been Wardens. Where they had protected and united the North.

Where, for a while, the Lannisters’ most formidable enemy was crowned King.

Where her own little wolf had grown up.

She looked behind her for a moment. The girl, who usually rode at the back of the troop with the dragons, was now only about 20 riders behind her.

From where she sat, the Queen could see the emotionless mask was well in place again, but she knew better.

As she turned her gaze forward again, she couldn’t help but smile slightly.

“She tries to hide it, but even from here I can tell how excited Arya is.”

Missandei smiled openly from next to her, her knowing eyes blinking.

At this, Daenerys smiled fully as well, despite her reservations.

“Indeed. Her face might look serious, but even from here I can tell her entire body is tensed up. And the way she started at the end of the group this morning, and has by now almost reached the front. I’m not even certain she notices what she’s doing! If she comes any closer, I’m sure I could see it in her eyes as well.”

_Those grey eyes… Once so dark, but now I can only remember the light in them... When we rode the dragons, when I kissed her, when we were in bed together…_

She sighed when she felt the familiar pain in her chest. The Queen thought of those grey eyes and the one they belonged to more often than not. But after that morning in her tent, things had changed.

Arya had begun to back away from her. Not like in the beginning, where the two of them were mostly hostile towards one another.

No, the younger woman was still friendly. She smiled, not one of those dark grins, but not an honest smile either. Not like Daenerys knew she could smile.

After everything they had been through, after everything that had been said between them, the young wolf had simply closed herself off completely.

And even though she could still sometimes see emotions pool in those grey eyes when the girl thought she wasn’t looking, the silver haired woman had begun to grow wary.

After all, her young wolf was almost home.

She was shaken from her thoughts when Missandei nudged her gently, smiling as she pointed behind them.

In those few moments, Arya had sped up again it seemed, now only about ten paces behind them.

Daenerys could see her eyes now, the excitement in them, so fixated ahead of them that she didn’t seem to see anything else anymore. Even Nymeria, the otherwise so vivid wolf that would run off every once in a while to hunt, was now meekly walking beside her, not a paw out of line.

As she turned around, she felt the same pang in her chest and sighed again.

She felt a hand on her arm and looked up to see Missandei watching her worriedly.

“Do not be discouraged, your Grace. Arya might have closed herself off for now, but she still cares for you. I know she does.”

Daenerys smiled gratefully at her friend, but shook her head regardless.

“I thank you for your kind words Missandei, and I thought so too at some point. But now, I’m not so certain anymore that the feelings she has towards me are the same ones I have for her…”

“Of course they are!” Missandei exclaimed, quickly bringing her voice down again to continue, so as not to attract any unwanted listeners. “Of course they are, Your Grace. You told me she has said so herself, that she cared for you-“

“- Like you, and like Grey Worm, and my Dothraki and my Unsullied. Those were her exact words, Missandei, I just imagined that she meant she had actual feelings for me..”

“But she does!” Missandei was whisper-screaming now, bringing her horse so close to the Queen’s that the reins almost got tangled. “Daenerys, please believe me when I say that Arya just said that to hide the truth, both from you and from herself. She cares for you, Daenerys, so very – _very_ much.”

The confident look in those warm brown eyes made Daenerys almost believe her, but at this point it was just very hard to do so.

“I want to believe you, Missandei, truly. But how can you know? How can you possibly read someone who is impossible to read?”

To her surprise, the translator blushed at her question, and looked away smiling.

“Because,” she said after a moment, “I can recognize it. Despite her dark past, beyond her tough exterior, her expressionless mask, her discipline when it comes to all things emotional, I can see it, not just in her eyes but in the way she stands, the way she speaks, the way she acts when she’s around you.”

She gave a sweet smile as she looked back at the Queen. “It’s exactly the way Grey Worm looks and acts around me.”

As she said that, it clicked in Daenerys’ head. She had of course seen how smitten Grey Worm and Missandei were with one another, and she could clearly remember all the things she had noticed when she first thought the two were in love.

The way Grey Worm tried to stay away from her, the way he started showing cracks in his tough exterior, and then compensated by trying to be even more disciplined…

“Look Daenerys, I know it seems like she doesn’t want to be around you right now, like she’s closing you out. But you need to understand, people like her and Grey Worm, they have never truly felt love, not this kind of love in any case. Love and romance were not things they have ever learned, or known, all they knew was fighting, and pain, and death. The fact that Arya is trying to back away so much, simply means she-“

“Enough,” Daenerys said it hoarsely, emotion clear in her voice although she was desperately trying to keep her face neutral.

When Missandei made to protest, the Queen continued. “Don’t, Missandei, please just… don’t. Maybe you are right, maybe Arya indeed…” she swallowed harshly, trying to clear the lump in her throat, “has feelings for me, that go beyond friendship. But I have tried to get closer to her, I have tried to approach her in every way I could, and yet she continues to try and keep away from me. Our journey has almost come to an end, soon she will be with her family again… Even if there was anything between us, there is no time left for us to explore it. And perhaps…” She swallowed again and breathed in deeply, feeling collected again. “Perhaps that’s for the best.”

Missandei frowned and looked back for a moment, before she shook her head and pulled her reins.

As she let her horse fall back, she made eye contact with the Queen, a look more confident than Daenerys had ever seen in those eyes and spoke plainly, but loud enough for only her to hear:

“I didn’t think dragons gave up so quickly.”

Before the Queen could respond to that, she noticed that her riding companion was quickly replaced by a new one on her other side.

Arya had finally come to the front of the group and was now riding beside her, her face still focused on the now very near castle.

Daenerys sighed and shook her head.

_Missandei calls me out for giving up, but just look at her: she doesn’t even notice me. Her eyes are so focused on Winterfell, so excited…_

She frowned for a moment. The girl’s eyes were focused on the castle indeed, but the look in her eyes wasn’t just excitement. It was nervousness, and even… fear?

Despite her fear of rejection, the older woman gently touched the girl’s shoulder.

“Arya-?”

As she spoke, Arya seemed to wake up suddenly, her eyes widening as she finally noticed her, but then widening even more as she noticed how close they had suddenly gotten.

“Your Grace! I- I apologise, I didn’t realise I had come this far to the front. I- uh- I’ll go back now, uhm… Yes, again, I’m sorry…”

She began to bring her horse around, but the hand on her shoulder moved down to the one gloved hand that was holding the reins.

“Arya,” She said softly, trying to get the nervous eyes to focus on her again. “What’s wrong?”

The younger woman still wouldn’t meet  her gaze, her eyes shifting anxiously between her hand and the castle.

“I… Nothing, I must’ve driven all the way up here by mistake. I-“

The warm hand on top of hers squeezed slightly, which made her look up at last.

Warm, worried violet eyes said more than words could, and Arya sighed in defeat.

“It’s just… Last time I came back here it felt wrong… Like I was an intruder in my own home. My siblings are the true Starks, but me, after what I’ve done…”

Daenerys felt a different pang in her chest now, an old familiar one she remembered from earlier conversations with the younger woman.

It was enough for her to disregard her own feelings of rejection from these past few days and to bring her horse closer to Arya’s, her warm fingers moving to the inside of the girl’s wrist, gently caressing her bare underarm under her parka.

After a few moments she was happy to see the girl visibly calm down by her touch.

“Arya,” she spoke softly, not stopping her gentle ministrations, “we discussed this before. Your siblings love you, regardless of what you’ve done, or who you might’ve become…”

_Like I do._

“Perhaps they do not know all about you, or about your past, but they will not shun you. They might even love you more for it…”

_Like I do._

“They could never hate you, Arya, trust me…”

_And neither could I…_

The younger woman sighed, and nodded as she spoke.

“But what if they do?” Arya said, more defeated than Daenerys had ever heard her. “What if they do hate me? What if they don’t think I belong with them anymore?”

_Then I’ll take you with me, back to King’s Landing. I’ll take you back home…_

Instead of saying what she thought though, the older woman smiled, her hand moving back up the girl’s arm to her face.

“Then-“

Before she had a chance to go on, though, the sound of horns interrupted their moment.

When she looked up, Daenerys saw that they had almost arrived at the gate, which was now being opened for them.

She had no idea how they had arrived there so suddenly, and neither had Arya, from the looks of it.

The Queen tried to talk again, but before she could her young wolf smiled at her gratefully.

“Thank you, Daenerys…” She said softly, before falling back again, allowing the queen to go in first alone.

The older woman wanted to say something back, to finish her sentence, but she knew now was not the time.

So she straightened her back and walked on, her head held high as she passed the Northern lords and soldiers who had gathered to meet her.

She rode on all the way, resisting the urge to look back at those intense grey eyes, all the while feeling that they were on her. As she reached the castle, though, she knew that the intensity of those eyes had shifted.

Standing inside the gates, in front of the castle, were 3 people and a large, white direwolf. Without needing to ask or be told, Daenerys immediately knew who they were.

To the right, sitting in a chair next to the wolf, a young man, younger than Arya, clearly crippled, although his eyes showed her a wisdom she had not even seen in many old men. In those few seconds she made eye contact with him as she led her horse to the stableboys, she felt like he had figured out her entire life.

Next to the boy she knew was Bran Stark, was a tall, gorgeous, redheaded girl. Daenerys could not imagine anyone more different than her own Stark girl than this composed woman.

_No wonder Arya always says the real lady Stark is up North…_

Regardless of their differences, though, Daenerys could still remember the post scriptem in the letter back at King’s Landing, and even now, while Sansa Stark was looking so composed and noble, the Queen could see her light blue eyes eagerly scanning the crowd for her sister, longing to see her again.

When she had gotten off her horse, while her men followed suit, she walked over to them, her eyes focused on the last person present.

Jon Snow. The one sibling that actually reminded her of Arya. His dark, unkempt hair, shorter stature, the square Stark features. But although his eyes too were serious, they lacked the kind of darkness that was so present in Arya’s.

He looked like a good man, and a good leader.

When she finally stood in front of the three of them, she assumed she should speak first.

Before she could, though, Jon and Sansa both bowed down deep, Jon offering his sword to her.

“Queen Daenerys Targaryen,” he spoke, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. I, Jon Snow of House Stark, hereby pledge my allegiance to you as the only true Queen of Westeros.”

As he spoke those last words, Daenerys heard the clamour of armour, and when she looked around she could see the Northern Lords and soldiers around them follow their leader and bend the knee as well, all speaking the same words, in unison.

She could never hear of remember all the names that were now pledging their allegiance to her, but she knew it did not matter at this point. The meaning of their action, of Jon Snow’s action, was very clear to her, especially when he spoke once more, after everyone had said their part.

“Our blades are yours, Your Grace. The North’s allegiance is yours.”

Daenerys smiled, impressed at this young man, who had been able to unite the North under his, and now under her banner.

_A good leader indeed…_

She looked around, at all the men still on their knees, and spoke loudly, for all of them to hear.

“I accept your allegiance, Lord Snow of House Stark, Lords and Ladies of the North. And I hereby pledge to you that I will honour this allegiance. That I will not simply command your blades for my own fortune, but that I will be a ruler that only considers the good of the entire realm, and therefore also the good of the North.” As she spoke, she thought she could see a slight smile appear on Jon Snow’s face. “Now rise, men and women from the North! There will be enough time for bowing once the coming battle is won.”

“Haha!” “That’s the spirit” she heard a few exclaims amidst the clamour of the armoured men getting up again and smiled. After spending some time with Arya, she had figured a joke like that would work with the Northerners.

As she thought about the girl she looked behind her for a moment, and saw her and Nymeria hanging back a bit, both obviously longing to go over to their siblings.

Daenerys turned around to the Starks again, only to see the same longing expression mirrored in their eyes.

She smiled to herself – _wolves…_ \- before she addressed the Lord Snow.

“I thank you for your hospitality, lord Snow, and the warm welcome you have given us. I am, however, quite cold and weary from the long journey.”

Jon nodded, and Sansa immediately agreed. “Of course, your Grace, I will show you to your quarters. Please, follow me.”

The girl began to turn around, but Daenerys shook her head. “Oh no, lady Sansa, you needn’t bring me yourself, any servant will do just fine.”

Sansa looked puzzled at the queen’s words, and she was about to protest when the silver haired woman smiled softly. “I believe a reunion with a girl who’s ‘talent is annoying highborn ladies’ is long overdue.”

The lady Stark blushed at her words, but nodded gratefully as she ordered a serving girl to lead the Queen, Missandei and her guards into the castle.

As she looked back, Daenerys smiled as she saw her own young wolf being engulfed in the arms of the other Starks.

With a smile on her face, but the familiar pain in her heart she walked away from the happy reunion, wondering why it was that she suddenly wished the Stark siblings had not been so kind…


	31. Knowing

When the Queen stepped forward and all Northerners bent their knee before her, Arya could not have been more proud.

She watched the display from a distance, standing silently next to her horse, hidden from view so as not to disturb this important moment.

Her eyes flicked between following the silver haired woman’s every move, and gazing at her siblings, only now that she saw them realizing how much she’d missed them.

Nymeria stood next to her, and Arya had to keep her hand on the animal’s neck at all time, sensing how much the wolf wanted to run for the one brother she had left.

_Patience_ , Arya thought, her eyes still focused on the scene in front of her as she said the word in her mind, communicating its meaning to both her friend and herself.

It was hard not to run at her family straight away, just like it was hard not to be standing next to Daenerys right now.

_Don’t be ridiculous_ , she thought harshly to herself. _This was the Queen’s moment. Regardless of what you may or may not feel, you have no place up there._

The ruckus of the Northerners laughing at Daenerys’ joke shook her out of her thoughts again, and she cracked a small smile at the obvious look of pride on the Queen’s face after her speech had the desired effect.

She watched the older woman turn around, looking for and finding her in the crowd, their eyes locking for a brief moment.

Arya sighed at the movement, although the smile stayed on her face even as the Queen turned around again to face Jon.

_“They could never hate you Arya, trust me…”_

Daenerys’ earlier words were still milling around in her head. They had calmed her down, but the young Stark had felt as though there was something more. Something written between the lines of what she was saying.

_“What if they do hate me? What if they don’t think I belong with them anymore?” – “Then…”_

_Then what?_ \- Arya now wondered, watching as the Queen spoke with Sansa, at the same time wishing she knew what the woman had wanted to say back then and wishing she hadn’t said anything.

Her mind came back to the present when she suddenly saw Daenerys walk away with Missandei and some servants, leaving the Starks outside, where they were now looking at their sister with excitement written on their faces.

Her heart racing again, Arya started to walk over to them as calmly as she could. When Nymeria leapt away, however, to be met with a happy Ghost in the middle of the courtyard, the young girl couldn’t keep herself in anymore.

She grinned widely as she took large steps toward her siblings and saw her expression mirrored on Jon and Sansa’s faces as they ran forward as well to meet her in a large embrace.

From in between their arms Arya could vaguely see Daenerys’ turn around for a split second as she walked inside, but she quickly forgot about those seemingly sad violet eyes as she felt her brother and sister hug her impossibly tight, the feeling of their fur coats and their smell making it clear to her that she was finally back.

Despite how much she enjoyed hugging her siblings again, the tight hug was taking a toll on her shoulder, and when Sansa pulled her closer for a third time she couldn’t help but flinch and groan.

She had tried to be as quiet as possible because she didn’t want the moment to end, but Sansa had heard her and immediately pulled away.

“Seven Hells, Arya, you’re hurt! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make it worse. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Arya smiled at the concern in both her siblings’ faces, and she almost felt as though she could see her mother and father’s faces reflected in theirs. She shook her head, trying to brush off their worries.

“It’s fine,” she said, smiling at them as she readjusted the sling that still held her arm. “It’s just a small wound, but Daenerys insists I wear this so I don’t ‘strain myself’, whatever that means.”

She rolled her eyes for good measure, and was glad to see that her siblings joined her, although Sansa did frown at her words.

“’Daenerys’, Arya, what-?” Sansa began to speak, at the same time as Jon said: “Good to hear, sister, I was almost worried that Bran’s visions had had it wrong.”

Ignoring her sister’s words – and her own reddening face – Arya quickly walked past the two of them to greet her other brother, who was still patiently sitting at the side of the courtyard, smiling and waiting.

She smiled right back at him and gave him a one-armed hug.

“I’m sorry, Bran,” she whispered as she held him close, “I am very happy to see you again.”

She could feel him smile against her. “Don’t worry about it, Arya. I’m happy to see you again, as well… I see you’ve found Nymeria – or that she’s found you, at least.”

Arya let him go when he said this, a puzzled look on her face.

“You knew?” she asked, just as the wolf came back to stand next to her.

Her younger brother smiled knowingly and shrugged. “More or less, yes. I wasn’t entirely certain you two would be able to connect, but I’m glad you did.”

Arya laughed and sighed as she put her hand on Nymeria’s head. “As am I, brother, as am I. But ‘more or less’? What does that mean? I would have thought that by now you’d have grown enough to see everything that happens in Westeros and beyond!” She saw that Jon and Sansa were standing next to them now, and addressed them as she spoke. “Right?”

They nodded, smiling, and Jon agreed. “Yes, Ar, I thought so too, but unfortunately our little brother still has much to learn. Whenever we asked him how you were, the answer would be ‘probably alright’, or ‘alive but possibly injured’, or ‘it is difficult to find her in these lands’.”

Bran was frowning now, and blushing profusely as Sansa added her piece with the same teasing grin on her face. “Indeed, we had thought that by now he would have been able to see all, but alas, no such luck.”

The young man wanted to retort, but instead he crossed his arms and shook his head. “Unbelievable…” He muttered quietly, which was enough to make his three siblings look at one another and burst out laughing.

Arya felt happier than she had in a while, and from the grins on Sansa’s, Jon’s, and after a while even Bran’s face she knew they felt the same way.

The last four Starks, back together at last.

As their laughter died down, Jon sobered up again first. “It is good to have you back, sister, and I would love to joke around some more. Unfortunately, though, we still have much to discuss.”

Bran immediately became serious again as well, and nodded. “Indeed. Although I was not able to see you very clearly, Arya, due to the lack of weirtrees in the South, I have been able to look into our enemy’s camp quite closely. The situation is getting dire, and we must attack soon if we want to be able to stop them before they breach the wall.”

Arya nodded as Jon put his hand on her good shoulder and began to walk her inside, flanked by Sansa and Nymeria on the other side.

“Come,” Sansa said, eyeing her younger sister. “Let’s get you cleaned up first, and then you will tell us everything that has happened since you left Winterfell.”

The redhead put her hand softly on the girl’s injured shoulder as she pointedly added, with stern blue eyes that left no room for discussion: “Everything.”

 

* * *

 

The snowy landscape outside made it clear that it was very cold, but to Daenerys’ wonder the room she was in felt around the same temperature as the one she had in King’s Landing.

She was rather certain that the Starks had arranged this room to be this warm especially for her, but besides the fire heated room she was in right now even the hallways had felt warm when she has walked in earlier, dispersing the earlier reservations she’d had about the castle.

Walking away from the window, she walked by the table again and couldn’t help but let her hand roam across the smooth surface of the sword she’d taken from Melisandre. She had put Lightbringer on the table, mesmerized by how perfect the blade still was, even though it had been set on fire.

“Do you really intend to use that sword, your Grace?” Missandei asked worriedly from her spot by the fireplace.

Daenerys smiled softly at her friend’s question. She knew the translator’s concern wasn’t about the weapon, but more about her part in the upcoming war.

“Missandei, you knew it would be wrong for me not to fight in this war. As queen, it is my duty to-“

“-to take care for all of your people, I know. But wouldn’t it be best to leave the fighting to the men?”

“Sometimes men alone aren’t enough to win a war, though, you and I both know that.” The Queen smiled as she saw her friend remember another battle, that was won mainly thanks to a girl having a hand in it.

Missandei understood what she meant, but frowned regardless. “I know Arya was vital to winning your throne, and I understand you could be vital in winning this war too. I just don’t want you to go into battle, your Grace, I don’t want you to get hurt. I’m sure you feel the same way about Arya, right? Do you want her to go into battle, to fight these White Walkers, hurt as she is?”

This reasoning was new to the queen, and, shaken up, she opened her mouth to speak, only to close it again, frowning. “I…”

Before she could finish her sentence, however, she was disturbed by a knock on the door.

Daenerys took a deep breath and nodded after a few seconds. “You may enter.”

To her surprise, Arya stood in the door opening, her face set in a slight smile.

“Your Grace, “ she bowed, “I’m sorry to disturb you.”

The older woman stared at this new version of her young wolf. Gone was the dirtiness from the road, the unkempt hair, the oddly mixed clothes that were usually a size to large. The young woman standing in front of her wore dark grey trousers and shirt and a leather mail that was clearly tailored to her size. Her now shoulder-length hair was combed back in a partial bun, that made her look more manly and more ladylike at the same time.

The Queen was almost too shocked to answer her properly. It was only when her eye fell on a lacking part of the outfit that she snapped out of it.

When she suddenly moved away, Arya’s smile disappeared and was replaced by a frown.

“Your Grace, what’s wrong?”

Still silent, the older woman walked back to her, a stern look in her eyes as she stopped right in front the girl and took her right arm.

“Ow! Daenerys, what are you-?”

Before Arya could continue complaining, the Queen arched her eyebrow as she put the girl’s injured arm into a new sling and quickly tied it around her neck.

To her pleasure, Daenerys could see the Stark girl look away in shame as she noticed what the Queen was doing.

The older woman stepped back and locked eyes with a chuckling Missandei.

“That’s better, wouldn’t you agree?”

Arya shook her head, her face reddening as she saw the two women smile at one another.

“Fine, I’m sorry I took it off, I thought it would be alright now that we’re here, and-“

“Well it’s not. As long as your arm isn’t completely healed up, you wear the sling. That was our deal, Arya…” The Queen dawdled, resisting her own need to flick the girl’s nose and instead opting on crossing her arms.

“Yes, alright, I’m sorry Daenerys. I’ll keep it on. Now if you would please,” Arya took a deep breath, trying to get away from those intense violet eyes and regain her dignity. “There will be a feast later, for all the Southern and Northern lords, in which we will also discuss the upcoming battle. However, my siblings thought it would be best to meet in private beforehand, so you and them can discuss what will be done before bringing all the others in.”

The older woman nodded, serious again as Arya continued. “Thank you. If it please you, I will bring you to them right now.”

The girl bowed again, once more her composed self as she walked out of the room, to be joined by Daenerys and Missandei.

She swiftly walked through the hallways, expecting the Queen and her friend to follow behind her, but instead she quickly heard footsteps catching up with her, and noticed that Daenerys had opted to walk next to her instead.

“Is there a reason why you’re walking so fast, little wolf?”

Arya blushed at the words, but smiled as she saw the twinkle in those otherwise serious violet eyes.

“I just thought it would be best to get you down there as quickly as possible,” she answered, trying to keep her face composed as she kept her gaze ahead of them.

“So it’s not because you can’t bear to be alone with me?”

At these words, Arya actually stopped walking and frowned.

“Daenerys, I…” she started, but was quickly interrupted when her sister walked up to them.

“Arya! There you are! We were wondering what took you so long.”

Sansa came closer now, her blue eyes quickly noticing her younger sister’s red face and the new sling, as well as the Queen’s amused expression.

She filed away what she saw for now, though, and turned to the Queen instead of waiting for an answer from her obviously distraught sister.

“Your Grace, thank you for joining us. I would like to apologise for my sister’s manners, more specifically her lack thereof.”

Daenerys smiled at the redhead’s words and gladly joined her as they continued walking to the Great Hall, the younger Stark girl quietly following them.

“No need to worry, lady Sansa. I have come to know Arya a bit better by now, and although her manners are horrendous, I do know she means well regardless.”

The older Stark sister smiled. “So I’ve heard. Arya has told us what has happened in King’s Landing and on the way here. You don’t know how happy I am that she has made it back here in one piece.” When she saw the Queen look down at this, Sansa quickly added: “And you of course, Your Grace.”

The Queen nodded, trying not to think back to the past few weeks with Arya, and all the times the girl had gotten hurt or had almost died.

She got rid of the thoughts when she entered the Great Hall, and was immediately greeted by the sight of Bran Stark in his chair, flanked by the two large direwolves, with a look in his eyes that made it seem as though he was sympathetic for the feelings she’d just remembered.

Looking away from him, Daenerys was quickly greeted by Jon and a few new faces.

“Your Grace”, Jon began, inviting her over to these people, “allow me to introduce you. This is Ser Davos Seaworth, my advisor.”

She nodded as Davos bowed. “It is an honour to meet you, Your Grace.” His accent was not a very Northern one, she noted, but she decided to keep her questions for another time.

She made the same decision when Jon introduced her to the person next to Ser Davos. “The Knight-Lady Brienne of Tarth, an ally of the Starks.” The tall, blonde woman bowed deeply before her, a serious look in her eyes as she did so.

“And finally,” Jon said, drawing Daenerys’ attention away from the female knight, “this here is Tormund Giantsbane, of the Free Folk.”

The tall, redheaded and bearded man simply nodded to her, and grinned. “Tormund Giantsbane, Thunderfist, Tall-talker, Horn-blower, and Breaker of Ice, Husband to Bears, the Mead-king of Ruddy Hall, Speaker to Gods and Father of Hosts, to be more precise.”

Daenerys looked on, amused, as Jon shook his head at the man’s words. Tormund acted affronted. “What?” He said, in his heavy accent, “I heard her titles earlier today. If you state of hers, why can’t I use all of mine? It’s only fair.”

The Queen chuckled, and before Jon could talk sense into his friend she put her hand up. “Indeed, Ser Tormund Thunderfist, it is only fair to use all your names when I get to use all mine.”

The large man nodded once, decisively. “Exactly!” he said, wagging his finger at Jon. “ _She_ gets it, lord Snow. A man is defined by his titles.”

“Of which your most important one is Tall-Talker, right Tormund?” Arya spoke with a grin on her face as she stood against the wall, her arms crossed as she observed the introductions.

It was clear to Daenerys that the girl was teasing him, and that this was something the two were prone to do judging from the smile on both their faces, but before the two of them could get into a heated discussion they were quickly interrupted by Jon.

“That’s quite enough, you two. The Queen doesn’t want to hear you two bicker, she wants to discuss the upcoming battles. So let’s stop this foolishness, sit down and talk.”

They continued grinning, but Arya and Tormund nodded regardless and sat down at the large table, the others quickly following suit.

“So,” Daenerys asked as they all sat down. “What’s the news?”


	32. Fondness

The Great Hall of Winterfell was bustling with energy, filled to the brim with rowdy lords who partied like it was their last night on earth.

_\- As it very well might be._

Daenerys watched the spectacle from her spot in the middle of the large table that stood above the rest of the crowd, her amusement growing by the minute.

It had been a strange evening, to be sure, and the beginning of it had given her no reason to be even remotely amused.

The lords – both Northern and Southern – had all been invited to the Great Hall to join in on this feast, but at first they had entered sullenly, most of the Southern ones refusing to sit down even.

_“Why call a feast now?! This is no time for celebration!”_

_“We will not sit down! Not before we know what in Seven Hells you will do about those White Walkers!”_

_“These wildlings have no place at my table, or even near me! Does the King in the North take animals as his lords now?”_

Safe to say, the atmosphere in the room wasn’t great, and went even more South as the last lord spoke his words: tables were shoved aside, collars were grabbed, swords were unsheathed in such violent motions that it seemed as though those pompous lordships were about to kill each other there and then.

It had taken many shouts from Jon and the Queen, and eventually a deafening howl of Nymeria (or, as Daenerys was almost certain off, Arya in the shape of her wolf) followed by the distant but unmistaken growls of her three dragons for the men to finally settle down.

Daenerys now looked to the side for a moment, to see Arya on the far end of the table talking animatedly with Bran, a small grin on her face.

She’d had the same grin on her earlier, after her actions with the animals had successfully shut everyone up, and her grey eyes glinted with mischief as they locked with violet ones.

The silver haired woman sighed when those eyes wouldn’t meet hers now. She didn’t let her posture fall though, and kept her head held high as she watched out across the Hall, watching the miraculously friendly lords – and even a few of those wildlings they would ‘never tolerate around them’ - drinking and laughing loudly.

It had taken her and Jon a long time – a very long time – to get the people calm again, but at this point she was glad to see their meticulous planning before the feast had had the desired effect. They had been able to answer any and every question the men had confidently, without any hesitation on either part, without even having to look at one another as they answered.

The success of this feast, the final one with all of them together, as Jon had passionately pointed out in his speech, was all thanks to the successful meeting they’d had in advance.

The combination of Jon and Bran’s experience with the Walkers, Sansa and Davos’ diplomacy, Grey Worm and Arya’s experience in battle and Tormund’s overall experience with anything beyond the Wall had made for a constructive dialogue. In addition to that her own discussions with Melisandre, which, although Daenerys felt betrayed, had made a lot of sense all in all, had made for a plan that the Queen, as well as the others present at the time, felt cautiously optimistic about.

The fact remained, though, that this optimism was more regarding the safekeeping of Westeros, and not necessarily the survival of all soldiers sent out to battle.

They had told the lords as much when they were finally quiet. They couldn’t not tell them, of course. But they had told them in the most sugarcoated, heroism-calling, ‘duty not to the realm, but to themselves’-kind of way that Sansa, Davos and Daenerys could come up with.

It had been a nerve-wracking moment, for all of them; when they told the lords the layout of the plan, the locations were they would be stationed, the risks that would come with the territories (‘if the walkers don’t kill us, the weather might’) and how they would leave the day after the next one, she could see their frowns growing and the angry rumble of protest fall from their mouths.

Before they could argue, or start another fight, Daenerys had continued by laying out the part where they would have dragons, that she herself would be riding them, that lord Snow and Ser Davos and all of them would be joining them in battle, that they were the ones who would go and save the world as we know it, and ‘damn death as long as our children, our people can survive this winter!’…

All in all, it had taken them more time to sugarcoat the battle than to discuss specifics with the lords, but those could wait till tomorrow. What they needed, and what they got after what seemed like an endless stream of encouraging speeches, was the motivation of these men.

And as they had finally joined Jon in a battle-cry, sat down and began to eat and drink like there would be no tomorrow, Daenerys knew that their plan had been a success.

She smiled as she saw them now. Regardless of how much convincing it took them, regardless of how ridiculous she thought they acted sometimes, here they were. Prepared to give their lives for their people. Despite everything, despite the terrors that awaited them, the Queen felt her heart fill with joy.

After all that she had been through to take her rightful place on the Iron Throne, here she was now, the Queen of a Westeros more united than it had been in many years.

“You seem happy, your Grace. Has the prospect of a battle to the death gotten you as excited as the others?” Daenerys looked up to see Arya join her on her right side, where Jon had been sitting before.

She chuckled as she saw those dark grey eyes shine. It was still strange for her to see the otherwise haphazardly dressed assassin look so… put together, but despite her cleanliness and clothes, the girl’s eyes always remained the same.

As did the sling that still held her injured arm, which the younger woman still wore, to Daenerys’ pleasure.

“You are one to judge, little wolf. I can tell you’re equally excited as them, if not more.”

A guilty look passed Arya’s at those words, but she smiled and shrugged, giving the queen a look like ‘hey, what did you expect?’.

She continued, shaking her head: “No, I was simply happy to see that the lords seem to have taken the news rather well. I feel like if we had said one wrong thing, they would all have killed one another, and we’d have had another war right here at Winterfell, instead of at the Wall.”

The giddy look on the Stark’s face swiftly turned serious. “Yeah, those were a few dangerous moments. I se- well, Nymeria sensed it the moment they all entered the Hall. I couldn’t tell you at the time, but even before they began arguing, those men were ready to pounce each other any second.”

The Queen smiled knowingly. “So I suppose you’re the one to thank for Nymeria’s intervention then?”

Arya looked surprised, but her smile mirrored the Queen’s: “You knew?”

“Of course I knew,” Daenerys said, her hand moving to cover the younger woman’s on the table. “How could I not know? I’ll recognize you anytime, Arya, whether you pretend to be a man or a wolf.”

The Stark girl’s face reddened as she looked into those earnest violet eyes. As Daenerys stroked her thumb across the palm of her hand, it felt as though the heat of the woman’s hand shot right through the rest of her body, resulting in a warm feeling both in her chest and her face.

Arya knew she had to end this, that this was once more getting to close to the feelings she wanted to ignore, but at the same time she simply didn’t want this moment to end – the silver haired woman’s gentle touch, the sounds of the room completely muted, only the sound of her own breathing and heartbeat thumping in her ears, those eyes she wished she could drown in.

The choice to end the moment was made for her, though, when Sansa plopped back down in the seat on the other side of the Queen, causing Arya to pull her hand away and move away from Daenerys ( _when had they gotten so close?_ ) quickly.

“Oof,” Sansa said, sighing as she quickly refilled her wine and took a long sip, “That was the fourth Northern lord I had to have carried out because he was so drunk.” She smiled at the Queen as she continued. “I’m happy our plan worked, your Grace, but I must admit, I could have done without all these drunk men.”

Daenerys was sad that her moment with Arya had gotten interrupted, but tried not to let it show as she smiled at the older Stark sister.

“Indeed, lady Sansa, I too am happy that the lords seem motivated to go into battle, but I did notice you’ve had your hands full with keeping them all in check. Is lord Jon out there doing the same thing?”

She hadn’t seen the oldest sibling in a while now, and was straining to see him among the men, but a chuckle from both sisters made her stop looking and focus on them instead.

More specifically, it made her focus on Arya, who was still looking out into the crowd, but had apparently been listening to her every word.

When, after a few moments of silence, the girl finally turned around to see Daenerys watching her expectantly, and her sister curiously watching from behind her, she rolled her eyes slightly and answered.

“You won’t find him in here anymore, D- Your Grace. My brother’s gone outside to party with Tormund and the rest of the Free Folk.”

When the queen looked surprised at her words, Arya gave her a one-armed shrug and continued. “He owes it to them. After all, those men and women are willing to fight for Westeros without even being a part of it… And on top of that, “ she grinned as she continued, “I think he likes them a lot better than the arrogant group of snobs that is gathered here…”

Daenerys felt like laughing at the girl’s words, but she kept her features schooled as she seriously asked: “Do you see me as one of those arrogant snobs, Arya?”

The girl’s eyes widened comically at those words, her mouth opening and closing without any sound coming out as she was clearly trying to find a way out of the situation.

Before the girl became as red as the tomatoes in front of her, though, the queen took pity on her and burst out in laughter. She was quickly joined by Sansa, who hadn’t seen that look on her younger sister in ages.

As the two women continued to laugh, quickly gathering the attention of the lords closest to the main table, Arya stood up with the blush still on her face, mumbled something about checking up on the dragons and hurried outside, leaving Sansa and Daenerys to watch her storm out, their giggles not letting up until the girl had long gone.

“Did I go too far?” Daenerys asked the older sister, after they finally calmed down, although her face showed amusement more than it did worry.

Sansa chuckled and shook her head. “Oh no, Your Grace, if I were you I would have kept the charade going for quite a bit longer…” As she calmed down, the woman added: “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her like this. Her time with you must have really changed her.”

The Queen sensed as though there was something more the woman wanted to ask, those pale blue eyes intense as they asked the seemingly innocent question.

She shrugged, not wanting to tell Sansa too much, but feeling like putting the older sister’s mind at ease. “She has indeed, Lady Sansa. When she first came to me, during the battle for King’s Landing, she was an almost cold-blooded assassin. Her time with my army, though, and especially with my dragons ( _especially with me_ ) has brought about a change in her. From what I can tell, she seems brighter now.”

Sansa nodded, and responded honestly. “I have noticed, your Grace. When she first came back to Winterfell, she seemed like she had a darkness inside of her. She seemed sad, and angry, and restless… I can see that that darkness is still inside her now, but I feel like it’s not overpowering her anymore. She looks… happy. Happier than I have seen her, and than I know she has been in years.”

The Stark looked down as she spoke, and looked back up now to see the queen watching her intently, her face a mask but emotions pooling in those violet eyes. She continued carefully, placing her hand across Daenerys’s wrist as she locked eyes with her.

“Thank you, Your Grace. For everything you have done for my sister. For bringing her some of the happiness she truly deserves.”

Before Daenerys could protest those words, or argue in any way, Sansa smiled at her and stood up, leaving the queen alone at the table to ponder those words.

 

* * *

 

The following day, all signs of any festivities were gone as quickly as they had begun. Winterfell and the surrounding encampment was bustling with men running about, gathering as many supplies as they could, fixing their weapons and armor, preparing their horses.

There was a nervous atmosphere for miles around, among Northerners and Southerners, Unsullied, Dothraki and wildlings alike. Fortunately, last night’s words had had enough effect for the men to continue working together instead of at each other’s throats, which could have been fatal with the current tension in the air.

Jon and Davos were walking among the men, joined by Grey Worm and Missandei for necessary translations, preparing the different troops that would be dispatched the next day, and explaining the battleplan in more detail, whereas Sansa was walking around the castle, dictating what supplies were needed and where they needed to go.

They had a busy day ahead of them, and normally Daenerys would have joined them, and asserted her duties as the Queen.

As it was, however, she couldn’t join them, as her young friend had pointed out in the meeting yesterday.

_“Your Grace,” Arya had said when Daenerys mentioned joining Jon amongst the men, “I understand that this is something you feel you must do, and if this is what you want I will not try and stop you… But tomorrow is the last full day before we ride off to battle, and because of that it will be the last full day you can train with the dragons. So either I teach you how to fly them tomorrow, or I will fly them, in which case I would advise that you sit out this battle, for your own safety.”_

The Queen had protested, of course, saying that there was no way she would not be a part of this battle, but in the end she had conceded, knowing that the girl was right, and that she and her dragons were needed in this war. _She_ had to be the one to fly them.

So here she was now, away from the anxious army in Winterfell, alone with Arya, Nymeria and her three dragons.

She watched as Arya explained in detail what the dragons’ weak spots were, or at least what she thought they were, and although she knew everything the young wolf was telling her was important, her mind couldn’t help but wander.

She kept going back to her conversation with Sansa the day before, and trying to recall the exact moment when she saw a happy look on the girl’s eyes – which made her go over a lot of memories she had of the younger woman.

Daenerys had wanted to have a more serious talk with Arya, and her intention as she had woken up this morning was to meet her by the dragons and immediately hear her out.

The Stark girl had had other plans though; the moment the queen arrived that morning, she had begun her dragon-lessons – food, calls, habits, best fighting techniques – and she had not stopped, which meant that by now, four hours later, the older woman almost felt like slapping her to get her to talk about something other than the dragons.

When Arya finally paused so that they both could eat, Daenerys saw her chance.

“Arya,” she said, catching the attention of the girl as she was pretty much devouring a chunk of meat, “we need to talk… About u-“

Before she could, continue, though, Arya stood up, as if she hadn’t heard her, and stuffed the last piece of meat in her mouth. “Right,” she said, her voice muffled because of how stuffed her mouth was, “That was enough explanation, theory is nice and all but it won’t help us on the battlefield. Are you ready to fly, your Grace?”

Despite her exasperation at the way the girl deflected her question, Daenerys could feel herself light up at the thought of flying again.

“Yes, of course, Arya, but-“

“Oh, sorry,” Arya responded, “I forgot Queens need a lot more time to eat than us regular folk.” She grinned wolfishly as she said that, and began to walk towards Drogon, knowing that the older woman would give in and follow her.

And surely, Daenerys rolled her eyes but stood up regardless, stuffing the last piece of bread in her mouth as she followed suit.

Arya’s emotionless mask was back in place as they reached the dragon, although the queen could see a triumphant look in her eyes, but she decided to ignore that while she listened to the girl’s explanation of how to best get on the dragon’s back.

She didn’t give her time to finish, though, and quickly brushed past Arya and jumped on Drogon’s back with ease, offering her hand to the smaller woman as she sat comfortably.

The Stark girl blushed, but took the offered hand regardless and pulled herself onto the dragon behind the queen.

She had used her good arm, but although the girl tried to hide it, Daenerys could clearly see the pain written all over her face.

“Arya…”

“So-“, Arya interrupted, before the woman could say anything else, “do you remember what I told you last time we flew together? About how to guide them?”

Daenerys sighed, but nevertheless pushed onto the dragon’s wings with her feet to get him into the air.

Her feelings of frustration seemed to blend into the background as Drogon took to the sky, and when Viserion and Rhaegal followed it was all she needed to forget about the lords, the soldiers, the upcoming battle, even almost forgetting the young former assassin that was now sitting behind her, holding her close with her left and occasionally giving pointers about her technique.

When the novelty of flying again had worn off after a few hours, though, and she was able to fly the dragon almost without thinking, the first thing that crept back into her mind was attached to that left hand she could feel on her abdomen.

“You’re doing well, Your Grace. Almost as good as me, I’d say.” When Daenerys shook her head, she could feel the girl grin behind her as she continued. “Almost.”

“’Your Grace’, Arya? I thought we were past that by now.”

The grin fell, but the queen didn’t care. They were going to talk, whether Arya liked it or not, and there was no running away now.

After a few moments of silence, which Daenerys didn’t feel like filling, the younger woman finally answered.

“You’re still the queen, Daenerys. I am nothing more than one of your loyal servants, and I should address you as such.”

Her voice suddenly went very formal, and without even looking behind her the older woman knew the girl had put on her full-on emotionless mask again.

She refused to back down, though.

“You are much, _so much_ more than just one of my servants, and I think you know that, little wolf.”

Things were silent behind her, but Daenerys could feel Arya take a long breath out when it hit her exposed neck.

“Why won’t you see this, Arya? Why do you refuse to let me care for you, as I know you care for me?” she asked, feeling the frustration rise up again but trying to keep herself as calm as possible.

The girl’s answer was formal. “I care for you as all your people care for you, Your Grace. And you should care for me the way you care for all your people.”

The Queen was beyond frustrated now, with Drogon following her emotions by flying faster and higher.

“You know what?” the silver haired woman asked, her voice suddenly calm and determined. She looked back and into grey confused eyes. “I think you’re lying, Arya. And if not just to me, you’re lying to yourself as well... This ends now.”

And before Arya could react, Daenerys let go and slipped off of Drogon, leaving a dazed Stark to watch her body plummet down into the snow-covered landscape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all,
> 
> I just wanted to say thank you to everyone for commenting. This has at this point become the longest fic I've ever written, and I truly want to try my best and finish it.
> 
> I hope you have enjoyed it so far and will also be able to enjoy the future chapters, and I promise that once I finish it I will try to get out the many mistakes I've made.
> 
> A big thank you to all!  
> D


	33. Thawing

It seemed as though time had frozen, as solid as the ground below her.

Arya couldn’t breathe.

Her body was still working on that deep breath she had taken in shock when she saw Daenerys let go of Drogon.

When she saw her, like in slow-motion, slide from the dragon’s back. Her own body seemingly slowed down as well, making her unable to catch the silver-haired woman.

With her left hand she felt the last strands of those silver hairs slip out of her grip.

She watched Daenerys fall, saw that determination still etched into her face.

The young wolf couldn’t do anything but fall with her.

“DAENERYS!”

She shouted as she pushed off from Drogon’s back, determined to fall faster, determined to catch up with this woman she cared so deeply for.

The cold air beat her face as she plummeted down, her eyes began to water from the icy wind, but she didn’t care. As she wished herself to fall even faster, her gaze was focused on one thing only.

When, at long last, Arya finally came close enough to Daenerys, she quickly grabbed her foot and pulled the rest of the woman’s body to her so she could hold her completely.

It was then that she saw the knowing and loving smile on the woman’s face.

And it was then that she noticed that time finally returned to normal, and the two of them were rapidly getting closer to the ground.

Unlike last time she had done this, though, she had no horn on her to call one of the dragons to save them.

But also unlike last time, she didn’t need it now.

Before she was even able to register what was happening, Viserion flew below them, effectively catching them in midair before they could touch the ground.

With her injured right arm securely tightened around the Queen’s waist, Arya immediately held onto the dragons back, trying to keep them both in place as Viserion first softly glided upwards again, to ease the blow, to then put them down gently.

Daenerys, for her part, smiled as they finally hit the ground.

It had scared her for a moment, to be sure: if she had known that Arya didn’t have the horn like last time, she probably wouldn’t have taken such drastic measures and jumped off her flying dragon.

That being said, though, her fear was quickly replaced with pride when Viserion had caught them, and that pride only swelled when she realized her other two children had rushed to their aid as well.

Now Drogon and Rhaegal landed almost at the same time as them, and from a distance she saw a recognizable grey blur rushing to them through the field as well.

Apparently noticing the direwolf as well, Arya swiftly – though gently – slid both of them off Viserion’s back, and immediately made to greet her.

Daenerys watched her do so as she did the same to her dragons, putting them at ease as well as thanking them by patting them on the heads affectionately.

After a moment, she turned herself to the younger woman to see she was still hunched over Nymeria, her hand no longer stroking the wolf put resting on its head.

She wanted to wait for the girl to speak. She wanted her to finally admit her feelings. After all, there was no denying them now – no other person would ever risk their lives like that, without thinking, without having even the slightest plan of how to save their own life.

But even though the Queen felt like there was no way the younger woman could still be in denial, the silence continued.

Her love sat with her wolf, without speaking, without moving, without breathing it seemed even.

She gave her a few more moments, but then it became too much for her to bear.

“Arya?”, she said, her voice light with the joy of having her dragons come to her aid.

When the younger woman didn’t answer, Daenerys moved closer.

“Arya? Please talk to me…”

The young Stark didn’t budge, which was enough to cause the lightness to disappear from her voice and be replaced by worry instead.

“Arya?” She asked as she put her hand on the girl’s shoulder, resisting the urge to pull away when she felt her flinch as she did so. “Little wolf, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

After a few seconds of silence, Arya finally spoke, her voice so low it almost sounded like a growl.

“What’s wrong? _What’s wrong?_ ”

Before Daenerys even realized it, the girl was up and out of her grip, her face twisted in an anger the older woman had only ever seen when Melisandre had threatened to kill her.

“How could you ask me that, Daenerys!?” she shouted, the anger behind her words enough to make even the dragons back away as she stepped forward to face the Queen. “Forget that, even. How could you _do_ that?! You jumped off a dragon, you were falling metres to the ground, YOU COULD HAVE DIED, DAENERYS!”

Arya backed away a few steps when she said it, anxiously rubbing her wild hair.

Daenerys could see the anger disappear and felt an enormous guilt fill her when she saw tears spill from those cloudy grey eyes.

“How could you do that?” the younger woman said, her voice weak and crackly from shouting. “How could you do that to _me_ , Daenerys?”

The weight on the Queen’s chest became even larger as she heard those words, dripping with emotion she had never expected from the former assassin.

“Arya..” she spoke as she stepped forward, trying to reach out to the girl who sadly backed away from her hand. “Arya.. Please, I didn’t mean it like that… I didn’t mean to risk my life, I knew you would save me.” She tried to smile as she continued. “I just wanted you to admit- no, to realise-“

“To admit _what_ , Daenerys?” Arya interrupted, tears still streaming down her face as she gestured wildly. “To admit that I care for you? That I have feelings for you, that I’m _in love with you_?!”

She almost spit out the last few words, like they were poison in her mind.

“Is _that_ what you wanted to hear, Daenerys? Because I DO.”

The younger woman wiped away her tears, an angry look on her face as her grey eyes shone with passion.

“Gods, of course I do! I have had feelings for you long before this! Long before that moment in bed with you, long before our kiss at that Red Woman’s trap, long before our first kiss when I fell off that dragon! These _feelings_ I have for you, feelings that make me want to rip my heart out of my chest every single day, have been growing for so long now… Even before you allowed me to train the dragons, even before…” she sighed, looking down as she crossed her arms. “Even before you were the Queen of Westeros, before you knew me as Arya Stark…”

“A-Arya…” Daenerys stammered, her own emotions getting the best of her as her eyes filled with tears as well. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” She stepped closer to the younger woman, close enough to touch her now, but not touching her yet out of fear that the girl might back away again.

“But why didn’t you tell me, Arya? If you had told me-“

“You wouldn’t have done something _stupid_ like jumping off a flying dragon?”

On any other occasion, this could have been one of the younger woman’s jokes, but the look on her face made it very clear that this was anything but a joke to her.

The silver haired woman looked down, guilt written all over her face. “I’m sorry Arya, I- I shouldn’t have done that. I just-“ she took a deep breath before she continued, her violet eyes determined as she locked them with the emotional grey ones once more. “I couldn’t bear it anymore. My feelings for you are so great, and I have been trying to get closer to you, to explore those feelings, to act on those feelings,” she said, as she stepped even closer to the Stark girl, “to _love_ someone again, as I haven’t loved anyone in so many years.”

Daenerys smiled sadly as she reached out her hand to caress the girl’s cheek, glad to see she didn’t flinch while she wiped away the fresh tears streaming silently down her face.

“But the more certain I was that you had the same, or at least similar feelings for me, the more you backed away. And the more I tried to get closer to you, the more you closed yourself off from me… And now here we are, in Winterfell… Your home, and the place where we will most likely say farewell – forever…”

Arya’s hand came to rest over her own, a sad frown on her face as she spoke. “But why then, Daenerys? If you know it can’t be…?”

“Do I?” the Queen smiled again. “The odds are not in my favor, that much is true. But to be honest, Arya, I don’t care about odds, and probabilities. All I care about are possibilities, and if there is even the slightest chance that when this war is over you will come back to King’s Landing with me, I will try to take that chance with everything I have.”

Arya swallowed harshly, and dropped her hand, taking the Queen’s away from her face at the same time.

“But Daenerys…” she spoke, looking defeated as she did so.

The older woman smiled as she grabbed the girl’s hand again, squeezing it encouragingly. “Yes..?”

“Daenerys, this can never be.. I’m a Stark and you’re a Targaryen-“

“- and these past few days have shown us there is no better combination. Even my dragons and Nymeria have shown us as much.” The Queen replied, confidently.

Arya sighed. “Perhaps, but… You’re a Queen, and I’m an assassin.”

“No, I’m the Queen, and you are my Warrior.”

“I mean you’re a noble and I’m not,” Arya quickly went on with her list, annoyed with the – albeit logical – interruptions from the queen. “You’re beautiful and I’m repulsive, you’re light and I’m dark, you are all that is good in the world, Daenerys!” She almost shouted, seeing the protest on the woman’s face, “and I’m all that’s bad… We can never be… We _should_ never be…”

“And yet we are,” Daenerys countered, moving closer to grasp Arya’s face with both her hands. “You’re from a family as noble as mine, even if your manners are as horrible as mine are royal. You are gorgeous, Arya, perhaps you don’t see it but I do. I may be light, but you very well know of the darkness inside me, as I know all about the light that is inside you. And I may be all that’s good in the world, or all that’s bad, who’s to say… All I know is that I’m better with you by my side.”

She stepped impossibly closer, her body now flush against Arya’s, her forehead leaning onto the smaller woman’s.

“Don’t run away from this, Arya.” the queen whispered, her breath warm against Arya’s cold face. “I need you with me..”

Daenerys waited for a response, her violet eyes scanning the younger woman’s face as she saw the emotions flash across it – fear, sadness, excitement, love.

In the end, a small nod and half grin was enough for her to close the gap between them and capture her lips in a searing kiss.

The kiss seemed to last for hours, their lips moving passionately against one another as they almost forgot where they were.

It was only when Daenerys’ hands came a little too close to Arya’s wound that a sudden gasp stopped their motions.

The Queen pulled back, her eyes quickly going from clouded with emotions to worried.

“Arya, your shoulder!” she exclaimed, finally noticing the lack of a sling – the thing had fallen off somewhere mid-rescue mission – and the cramped way in which the younger woman was trying to keep it in the least painful position.

“It’s fine,” the young wolf said, still riding high on the emotions she was feeling as she kissed the woman again.

Daenerys kissed back, but pulled back soon, caressing the girl’s face as she did so. “It’s not fine, Arya, and you know it, “ she said, her violet eyes flashing with a sadness that was quickly followed by a determination that seemed sort of out of place to Arya.

The younger woman ignored the look, though, and instead let herself be led towards the castle again, although not before they had taken care of the dragons, of course.

When they reached the castle, they were immediately met with a clearly worried Sansa.

“Arya, Your Grace! Are you alright? I heard one of the men say they thought they saw someone fall from a dragon, but when I asked him to go check it out he didn’t dare! Said he didn’t want to get that close to the dragons! I would have come myself, but I didn’t have the time, if I had left the castle I fear the soldiers would have started practically looting every single supply we have left. But then again, maybe I should have found one of your men to come and see, Your Grace, because I have been worried all day and- Arya where is your sling?! Is your shoulder okay? It doesn’t look okay, we need to go see a healer right away! I swear, Arya, if I hear you’ve been jumping from dragons for fun like Missandei said you have done before, I will-“

Daenerys smiled as she followed behind the worried older sister, listening to her rant as the moved through the castle hallways.

_And Arya was nervous about coming back here_ … She thought, smiling as Sansa practically forced her younger sister to sit down and take her furs and shirt off.

Her smile quickly faded away when the healer took off the old bandages, and she saw the wound again for the first time since the day they fought Melisandre.

Although the wound was clean now, and had only reopened slightly, it still looked red and extremely painful. She wanted to say as much to Arya, but Sansa beat her to it.

“Seven Hells, Arya! You said it was a small wound! This is anything but small, it looks like it was rather deep even! Why on earth are you flying dragons like this, you should be resting!”

Daenerys saw the young woman grin, waving away her sister’s worries.

“It’s fine, Sansa, it looks much worse than it is! I barely even feel it – although I do agree, the flying today might have been a bit too strenuous for me.”

She glanced at the Queen for a moment, but before she could respond the older Stark continued.

“Honestly, Arya, how did this even happen? I thought you said the wound happened when the two of you fought the Red Priestess, but that she had only been able to scratch you before the Queen burned her. This does _not_ look like a scratch!”

Daenerys arched her eyebrows at Sansa’s words, her eyes now boring into the back of Arya’s head as the girl looked to the side. Despite her turned-away face, Daenerys could easily see the back of her ears go bright red.

“What _exactly_ did Arya tell you, Sansa?”

When two voices shouted her name behind her after a few minutes, Arya could only bury her blushing face in her hands as the Queen told her sister the full truth of everything that had happened to her up until then.


	34. Seen

As the day came to an end and the sun was almost beginning to set, most preparations for the next day had been finished, and all soldiers could be found huddled around different fireplaces.

Daenerys could see solemn looking Southerners, loud Northerners with stern looks on their faces, her own disciplined and focused Unsullied, and then her Dothraki warriors and the Northern wildlings, laughing loudly while they sparred and drank with one another. Every group their own way of preparing.

It reminded her of other battles, where she only had her Unsullied and Dothraki.

Battles where those Southerners that were now in front of her were still considered her enemies.

Battles that were fought only weeks ago, but felt like they happened in another lifetime.

She walked around the castle and into the woods, glad to find them more quiet than the castle itself and the surrounding encampment.

This alone time was exactly what she had needed, although she would not have minded spending it with her own little wolf.

Unfortunately, though, Arya was otherwise engaged.

The Queen grinned to herself as she thought about the girl’s face when she had left her with Sansa, Jon and Missandei, her eyes wide with something close to fear when Daenerys told Missandei and the Starks to have a talk about what _really_ had happened to Arya while she was gone.

\- A task Missandei gladly took upon her.

She almost felt bad for the younger Stark sister – she knew the girl had only wanted to protect her relatives from the truth, and she understood the sentiment, but she herself knew that Jon and Sansa needed and deserved to know the truth.

After all, they cared for Arya as much as she did.

“Mind if I join you, Your Grace?”

Daenerys jolted awake, too caught up in her own mind to notice that someone else had been around.

She smiled at the young man sitting in the wheelchair, and at the young woman standing behind him.

“Not at all, Lord Bran, you and Lady..?”

“Meera,” the girl spoke, giving her an awkward bow. “Meera Reed, your Grace. But I’m not a lady.”

The Queen nodded, thinking fondly of another girl who was ‘not a lady’.

“Well, you and lord Bran are very welcome to join me, although I have to tell you I was simply searching for a more quiet place. I must admit that I have no idea where I am going.”

The young man smiled knowingly. “Don’t worry, your Grace. I do.”

As he said that, Meera pushed the chair forward again, leaving deep marks in the snow as they walked on.

Daenerys was surprised at the boy’s words, to say the least, but she followed him regardless.

When she caught up with the two, she slowed down to match their speed as she smiled once more, ignoring the air of mystery that surrounded the young Stark as she spoke.

“I’m surprised you’re not with your siblings, lord Bran. I thought Jon had called you in as well?”

Bran’s enigmatic smile turned into an amused one at her words, a smile that fit his age more.

“Ha, to hear Arya’s secrets, I heard.” He shook his head as he continued, looking up at the Queen for a moment. “I knew the things she told us weren’t all true, although I was not entirely certain what the truth could be exactly. Regardless, I am happy that you made her come clean to my siblings… It tells a lot about you… and about her.”

There was a look in his eyes that made Daenerys feel like there was more meaning to his words, but when he didn’t elaborate she simply continued the conversation herself.

“Yes, well, I felt it was necessary for her siblings – for you all know the full truth. But if you are not certain about what happened to her yourself, why are you not with them now, Lord Bran? Shouldn’t you be there, grilling your sister as well?”

The young man shook his head, looking in front of him again. “No, your Grace, I am exactly where I’m supposed to be right now.”

Daenerys frowned, and opened her mouth to ask him what he meant with that, but before she could she suddenly felt the air grow thicker, electric almost.

As the wheelchair continued without pause, the silver-haired woman slowed down to look around.

They were still in the forest, but this part was different from any other forest she had ever seen. The trees looked older, the crackling sound the snow made with every step seemed to reverberate all around her now, and the air smelt like the earth had come alive in this very spot.

She continued along the marks the wheelchair had left for her, finally focusing on the large tree that stood in the center of the clearing, and on the face that was carved into its bark.

“This is…”

“A weirwood, indeed your Grace.”

Bran’s voice caught Daenerys’ attention, and she finally saw him sitting in front of the tree, next to a stone bench, a gently smile on his face as his hand indicated for her to join him. The young woman, Meera, had begun walking back to the castle by now, but this barely registered with the Queen.

She nodded in response, still too distraught to smile back though, and sat down next to him.

“It’s… amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it.”

She continued to look around in awe for a few moments, reveling the atmosphere in silence, until Bran spoke again.

“Yes, the weirwood is amazing indeed. Back when I was a child I didn’t appreciate it that much – it seemed scary rather than sacred and I would have done anything not to go near it… I much rather climbed up the highest tower we had than come down here with father. But after everything, this place has become almost like a second home to me.” He chuckled as looked up at the top of the tree. “Ironic, how these things can change, isn’t it Your Grace? From hatred to love, from a desire to stay away to a longing to be together.”

This time Daenerys was certain Bran was alluding to something. She thought about ignoring the clear allegations in his voice, but decided to breach the subject anyway.

“Lord Bran, we both know there is something you would like to say, and I would prefer if you could be frank about it. If you in some way dislike something you have seen between Arya and myself in the time we’ve been here, then-“

“No, Your Grace,” Bran quickly interrupted, his eyes wide in surprise. “I didn’t mean anything like that, but I apologise if what I said came across as such. I have seen how close you were, yes, and I only meant to tell you that I know. I know how much my sister cares for you, and I know that you care about her just as much.”

He turned around as much as he could in his chair to be able to lock eyes with the Queen’s surprised violet ones.

“You have made Arya happier than I have seen her in many years, and for this I can only thank you, your Grace. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you. She deserves this happiness, even if she doesn’t think she does…”

Daenerys felt her heart swell with emotion, and she smiled gratefully at the boy’s honesty.

“I’m glad you feel that way, lord Bran, and I apologise in turn for snapping at you like that. These feelings between Arya and myself have only recently grown this strong, and I suppose I was just surprised that anyone had already been able to notice this.”

At those words Bran suddenly became serious.

“To be honest, Your Grace, I didn’t simply notice this while you were in Winterfell…”

He looked down for a moment, and Daenerys could see him swallow harshly as he frowned.

The sudden change made her very nervous.

“When then, lord Bran? And why do I feel like you’re reluctant to tell me what you saw?”

He sighed as he looked up again, his deep brown eyes determined.

“A vision, your Grace, one that involves you and Arya. A horrible vision about the future…”

* * *

 

Arya sighed heavily as she walked out of the castle, trying – yet failing – to adjust the now very tight sling that was keeping her shoulder in place.

_Overreacting, all of them…_

The past hour had been ruthless: an hour of once more going over everything that had happened to her since she arrived with the Queen, an hour of Missandei _exaggerating_ everything that had happened to her, an hour of her siblings getting increasingly angry as they heard everything that Arya hadn’t wanted them to know.

Or as they heard everything Missandei knew about, at least.

Which, to the former assassin’s displeasure, was a lot.

So she hadn’t told Jon and Sansa about how much she’d gotten hurt in the battle for King’s Landing, and how her killing Cersei had almost made the Queen decide to kill her.

_Big whoop._

And maybe her not accepting treatment from a healer after she was so terribly injured had been slightly stubborn – or as Sansa said, _“Moronic! Stupid! How could you, Arya?”_

And her killing the lord Cressey was apparently dangerous as well – “ _While you were still injured and in chains, Arya?!” – “With a needle?”_

As was her meeting the dragons – _“Have you seen the size of those beasts?!”_ , her killing a thug on the road – “ _Oh come on, Sansa, he was hurting that woman, what was I supposed to do?!”_ , her falling from a dragon - _a good thing they didn’t know she actually jumped off_ ,...

Apparently, every little fun thing she had done had been ‘extremely dangerous’.

She had thought that only Sansa would react that way, and for the most part that had been true: Jon – although frowning when he heard about how seriously hurt she’d been – mainly smiled when Missandei told her everything else, clearly proud of his little sister.

It was only when the full story of what had happened with Melisandre was explained to him, that his look changed to one of anger.

_“She stabbed you? She threatened to kill you? You said it was just a scratch, that there was barely even a fight! I swear, if I get my hands on that bloody red woman… I should never have let her live!”_

It had taken a lot of talking on Arya’s part – mainly convincing him that killing her would do him no good as she was already dead – but in the end he and Sansa had at last calmed down enough to let her go.

Which was how she was now, an hour later, finally able to find Daenerys, so she could spend her last evening before the battle with the woman she loved.

When she hadn’t found the Queen in her own room, Arya had quickly called Nymeria to help her find the woman, which was why she was outside the castle right now, following a familiar wheelchair trail.

She smiled when she saw the smaller footprints of the person that had obviously been walking next to this chair, and her smile grew when she finally came upon the Weirwood and saw Daenerys and Bran sitting next to the large tree.

As she walked closer to them, she was immediately pulled in by those violet eyes, which for a moment looked like they were filled with fear.

By the time she reached the silver-haired owner of those eyes, though, the look of fear was gone and replaced with a look of love and determination.

She looked at her brother for a moment, and saw that his eyes where knowing and mysterious as always, so she disregarded her feeling of unease and simply smiled.

“Bran, Daen- Your Grace,” she quickly corrected herself, glancing at the youngest Stark as she did so, “What are you doing here?”

She stood in front of them awkwardly as she spoke, bringing a smile on Daenerys’ face as the older woman stood up.

“You’re too cute, you know that, little wolf?” She said as she walked over to the girl, kissing her on the cheek.

Arya immediately blushed and looked at Bran with wide eyes, but the young man only smiled.

“I-uh-I-“ she stammered, looking from Daenerys to her brother.

“Don’t worry, he knows,” the Queen said, an amused look on her face.

The former assassin looked at her brother again, and when he shrugged she scratched her neck, her face still a bright red hue. “Ah… Well, erm, alright then… In that case…” she began speaking quietly, but grew gradually louder and more confident as she spoke.

“Well, I was looking for you, Daenerys… It seems like my interrogation is over, _finally_ , and no thanks to you.” She joked, giving the older woman a pointed look, “so I was hoping that we could perhaps spend some more time together, you know, last night before the war?”

Daenerys smiled sadly, which seemed strange to Arya, but she quickly realized it was probably because of her own choice of words.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Daenerys, of course I don’t mean ‘last’ last night, I just meant..”

She was interrupted when the Queen put her finger on her lips, effectively silencing her.

“Don’t worry, Arya,” she responded, her smile more sincere now although there still was a kind of sadness about it, “you don’t need to apologise. And yes, I would love to spend some more time together, and we definitely will… But later, if that is alright with you. I still have some final… things to take care of before we leave tomorrow.”

Arya frowned. “Things to take care of? Well I can always help, if you want?”

The queen shook her head smiling at her little wolf’s worried face, and kissed her on the forehead.

“That’s very sweet of you, Arya, but I’ll manage this much. Perhaps you can keep your brother company some more right now, and I will see you later?”

The younger woman nodded, becoming even more confused when the Queen barely even stayed long enough to see her nod, and simply hurried back to the castle.

“What was that all about?” Arya asked as she sat down next to Bran, looking into the boy’s knowing eyes.

“I have no idea, Ar… Must be some kind of urgent royal business.”

The former assassin looked at him, suddenly overcome by a feeling that something was wrong, that there was something he was hiding from her.

She quickly forgot the feeling, though, when a large wolfish grin broke out on her brother’s face.

“So… You and Queen Daenerys Targaryen…?”

After a day like today, Arya felt like her face might never go back to its normal colour.

* * *

 

The sun had set completely by the time Arya pushed Bran back into the castle. They had spent a long time talking animatedly about both her and Daenerys as well as about him and Meera – a fun, light conversation with her younger brother that Arya felt was long overdue.

She was starving at this point, not having eaten anything since lunch, and wanted to immediately head to the Great Hall to find herself something to eat.

When they met Meera on the way there, though, and she told her the Queen hadn’t arrived downstairs yet, Arya left Bran with the girl to first go and find her.

She bounded up the stairs with a smile on her face, happy to be spending time with the woman.

When she opened the door to the Queen’s chamber, her smile was quickly joined by a frown when she saw that Jon was in the room with her.

“Jon, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for war?” When she noticed that his face remained very serious, she quickly continued. “I mean, I should too, of course, I just-“

“No, Arya, you shouldn’t,” Jon said hoarsely, the stern look on his face contrasted by the sadness in his eyes.

Arya’s smile disappeared completely now.

“Wait… what?” she said, looking from Jon to Daenerys, seeing the determination on both their faces.

This time the Queen responded, her nervousness only shown by the slight quiver in her voice.

“He said you shouldn’t be preparing for war, Arya, because you’re not going to war.”

The older woman swallowed harshly when she saw sadness and confusion pool in those grey eyes, but she continued regardless.

“You are staying in Winterfell. That is an order.”


	35. Reasoning

Silence fell on the room like a landslide after those words were spoken.

Arya felt numb, like she was drugged all over again.

There was a buzzing in her ears, her eyesight was getting fuzzy and she could barely breathe, as though she’d been kicked in the stomach.

But this time, there were no drugs involved. Just words.

_“You are staying in Winterfell. That is an order.”_

Daenerys’ voice kept replaying in her head over and over again, and every time she heard it her heart constricted.

She kept staring in front of her, at her beloved brother Jon, and her beloved… Daenerys…

For minutes the two didn’t speak. They were probably waiting for Arya to say something, or do something.

If the younger woman had not been so shocked, she might have recognized the nervous looks on the other two people. She might have noticed the sweat beads that were running down their faces as well, the subtle glances of worry.

Arya _was_ in shock, though, and it took her a long time before she actually realized why.

After this short period of happiness, _actual_ happiness she had felt, she had not even expected a feeling like this to come up again.

Which was why, when the girl finally recognized the feeling for what it was, her first response – as it had been all through her youth – was anger.

Anger at the betrayal from the two people she trusted most in this world.

“What _the fuck_ are you talking about.” She hissed the words, trying to control herself although her free hand automatically went to grasp the sword at her belt.

She could see Jon reel back, shocked by the sudden darkness in her eyes – a darkness he had never seen before in his little sister – but the Queen stood her ground, her head held high in determination.

“What I am talking about, Arya,” Daenerys said calmly, although there was a slight quiver in her voice, “is that you are not fit for battle. Your shoulder has-“

“My shoulder is _fine_!” Arya shouted, tearing off the sling to prove her point. “It’s healing just fine, it won’t kill me, and I don’t even _fucking_ need it ‘cause I hardly even use that arm in battle!” She stepped forward as she spoke, not even noticing how Jon stepped back as she closed in on the older woman, who refused to move away despite how menacing the former assassin looked. “I hope you have a better reason to give me a fucking _order_ like that, _Your Grace._ ”

They were almost nose to nose now, and Daenerys could see the emotions that pooled in those dark grey eyes.

The anger.

The betrayal.

The deep sense of sadness behind it all.

It broke the Queen’s heart to know that she was the one who had caused this.

She was the one who had told Jon about Bran’s vision.

She was the one who had persuaded him to back her up, who had persuaded him to forbid Arya from going to war with them.

It hadn’t been easy; Jon respected his sister too much to even consider ordering her to stay in Winterfell, to not join a battle she was so invested in.

Daenerys could understand this, of course. She too understood how devastating it would be for the young warrior to not be allowed to go to war with them, to be forbidden to fight at their side. To be pushed aside by two of the few people she trusted.

But in the end, Daenerys had made it clear to Jon that there was no way around it.

If Arya fought with them, she would die.

And although it pained her to see her love look so heartbroken, so angry, Daenerys knew this was what had to be done to keep her safe.

So she persevered.

“My decision is final, Arya.” she said, her determined violet eyes leaving no room for discussion, “I will not let you risk your life and that of your fellow warriors by allowing you to fight in this war while injured. You _will_ stay in Winterfell, and that is final.”

When she saw that Arya wanted to interrupt again, she quickly continued, mustering up as much of the dragon inside of her as she could to try and bring her point across: “And don’t even think about going against my wishes, Arya. You will not try and join the army disguised as ‘Frog’ again. All the men will be told that you are not to join us in any way, with any face. That is an order from your queen! _Are. We. Clear_?”

The room went silent again, the two women face to face in the middle of the room, both breathing heavily in frustration, both refusing to look away.

In the end, the deafening silence was broken by Arya, who shook her head frowning as she stepped back, her eyes never leaving the violet ones of the woman she had fallen for.

“I can’t believe you would do this, Daenerys…” she said hoarsely, her voice holding only a small fragment of the power it had held before. “Of all people, you’re the one I trusted most to never do anything like this…”

The young wolf visibly deflated as she finally turned around and left the room, leaving a heartbroken Daenerys in her wake.

The Queen sighed, looking up to the ceiling as she swallowed harshly, as if to push her emotions down again.

“Your Grace?” Jon spoke hesitantly while he carefully moved into her line of sight.

She looked up to see worry in his eyes, as well as doubt.

Daenerys righted her shoulders, looking him straight in the eye. “This was the only way, lord Jon. You know it had to be done.”

The young man took a moment, an unsure look still on his face, but after a while he nodded slowly.

“It was necessary for us to stop her, I agree, I wish to keep her safe as much as you do, maybe even more… But to ambush her like this…”

He looked down as he spoke, and because of that he couldn’t see the pained expression that came across the queen’s face.

_What if he’s right… What have I done… She hates me now, she must…_

She didn’t allow herself to finish that thought though. She did what she had to do to keep Arya alive.

It didn’t matter if the young wolf hated her, as long as she _lived_.

“I understand your reservations, Jon,” she stated, calmly but surely, “but we did what needed to be done to keep her safe. There is no place for feelings in a war like this one, as you well know. Feelings will get you killed.”

_And the one you love…_

She could see that the older Stark wanted to respond once more by the frown on his face, which reminded her so much of another Stark’s frown, but before he had the chance to do so she spoke again.

“Now that that is taken care of: I will tell Grey Worm to warn the men, both yours and mine. They should all know Arya’s face by now, but we will still need to warn them about ‘Frog’. We must make sure that she does not try to follow us disguised as him. I trust you will warn Sansa to make sure that Arya doesn’t leave her sight.”

After she said that Daenerys quickly left the room, without waiting for a response from Jon.

* * *

 

The skies were pitch black and the air around her only kept getting colder, but Arya barely even noticed it.

Huddled together with Nymeria she sat against the Weirwood, stroking the direwolf’s fur absentmindedly.

After leaving Daenerys’ room, Arya didn’t really know what to do. Going to the Great Hall, where everyone else was happily eating, was no option for her, so she had simply ran outside.

Once out of the castle, her friend – sensing her distress – found her easily and led her back into the forest.

It had been at least over an hour that the two were sitting outside, in the dark, away from everything and everyone.

The anger Arya had felt earlier was by now long gone and replaced by a cold emptiness inside her.

An emptiness that reminded her of a time not that long ago, when she would sit in the darkness with that same empty feeling, listing off the people she would kill in order to feel whole again.

Now, however, she knew there was no list. There were no enemies, none that she was allowed to kill at least.

All she had was a gaping hole inside her, and a numbness that came with it.

“Arya?”

Her brother’s voice came from somewhere to her right. From the corner of her eye she could see his face, lit by the torch he was carrying.

The young woman didn’t bother to respond, and tried to block Jon’s voice out as he called her name a few more times.

She wanted to be alone, to be left alone.

Unfortunately, though, her direwolf did not feel the same way: when she sensed that Ghost was closeby she gave a small bark.

_You too? Traitor…_

In mere moments, Ghost and Jon were at her side, but Arya refused to look at them.

“Arya? Please, I just want to talk…”

Just hearing his voice made her think about that moment in the Queen’s chamber…

How he had betrayed her.

So she simply ignored him and continued to stare ahead of her.

The girl thought that Jon would quickly get the hint and go back to the castle, but unfortunately her brother was as stubborn as she was.

Although she made no indication that she noticed him, she could see him move into her line of sight and sit down right in front of her in the snow.

He sat there for a few minutes, watching her in the faint light of his torch, taxing her, trying to figure out what to say, maybe hoping that his younger sister would cave and start talking to him first, as she used to when she was little.

When he realized that Arya had no intention of even acknowledging his existence, he spoke first.

“Do you remember how father used to sit here every day? It seemed so strange back then, how he would sit in front of the weirwood tree, praying to the old Gods…”

The young woman could see him look up with a half-smile, but she continued to stroke Nymeria, her face a blank mask.

“After coming back from the Wall, I’ve barely come back here… I’d seen enough of these trees on the other side, and the memories I had of those were mainly tainted by the horrors from beyond the Wall. But now that I’m back here, I can feel the energy, the power in the air… It calms me, to be honest…”

He sighed when he saw that his sister stayed non-responsive, but continued regardless.

“It makes sense now, why father would come here every time he needed to clear his mind. Do you remember how he would sit here for hours sharpening his sword? It drove lady Catelyn crazy…” He smiled as he shook his head, reminiscing. “Perhaps I should have brought my sword here too… Sharpening it the night before battle would really help clear my head… After all, I won’t get a chance after we ride out tomorrow.”

Arya knew he was trying to get her riled up, but she refused to rise to the bait.

“Perhaps I should have brought Needle too, so-“

“Perhaps you should not have come here at all.”

Dark grey eyes were locked onto soft brown ones now. In the faint light of the torch she could see a small look of victory on her brother’s face, but it quickly faded when he saw the anger on hers.

“Arya…”

“What, Jon? Did you think bringing back memories and talking about father would make me forgot about what happened earlier? You and Daenerys _fucking_ betrayed me, Jon.”

He shook his head, a sad look in his eyes. “It’s not like that, Ar. Your shoulder-“

“Will you _stop_ using my shoulder as an excuse! I’ve known you long enough, Jon, I can tell there’s something more going on here. So why don’t you stop bullshitting and tell me what _the hell_ is going on!”

Jon had a worried look on him as he listened to her, and when she finished he stared at her for a while longer before he sighed and looked down.

“Do you remember,” he spoke softly, ignoring Arya’s agitation as he went on, “when I gave you Needle? You were such a tomboy back then, always fighting and shooting arrows, often better than the boys.” He grinned slightly, looking up at her again. “I had been thinking about getting it made for you for a while. I knew you could become good with a sword, and that you enjoyed fighting and everything father didn’t want you to do, but none of our large swords were suited for a small girl like you. I had wanted to be the one to teach you how to use it, to train with you, but when I left for the Wall and you for King’s Landing I knew I had to give it to you, with or without training.”

He sighed as he leaned back, knowing that he had Arya’s full attention now. “I don’t know what I expected you to do with it back then… To be honest, I simply thought it would give you something to do while you were in that awful city… I never thought that you would actually need it… That it would actually be what kept you alive…”

Arya spoke hoarsely. “It did.” She swallowed, trying to push down her emotions. “Needle saved me many times, and just having it with me kept me going… Because it reminded me of you, and home.”

Jon was happy to see that the darkness was leaving the girl’s eyes, that he could see his sister again.

“I’m glad, Ar… I cannot tell you how happy it makes me that you are alive, and that even for a small part I might’ve helped you with that… After all, I wasn’t able to help the rest of our family in any way.”

He spoke the last part bitterly, which made Arya move forward to put her hand over his leg. “Neither was I, Jon… None of us were… Because we were all apart, separated by rivers and Walls and seas… But now we’re together again, the four of us, back in Winterfell. Do you remember what father always said?”

Jon smiled at her. “The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives? Yeah, I remember. But we both know I’m not that much of a wolf, Ar.”

“Don’t say that, Jon, of course you are. You will always be my brother.” She half-smiled as she spoke, but her smile fell quickly. “And yet here you are, telling me to stay in Winterfell while you go off to battle, _alone_.”

As she said that he looked down, giving Arya room to continue pressing.

“Why, Jon? You know we would make a good team? You and me and Ghost and Nymeria, together in battle? I could watch your back while you watch mine… So why do you shut me out? What possible reason could you have for forcing me to stay here, for ordering me to do something you clearly feel bad about?”

He looked up at her sadly. “I’m sorry, Ar, I can’t tell you… I wish I could, but..“

“That’s enough, lord Snow.”

The two looked up to see Daenerys step into the light, both too caught up in their conversation to notice her before.

Jon quickly stood up, giving the Queen a small bow as he greeted her. “Your Grace.”

She nodded back, but her eyes were focused on the girl who was still sitting down and refused to meet her eyes.

“Would you mind leaving us for a moment, lord Jon? I need to speak with your sister.”

He looked at the two of them for a moment, unsure of what to do, but when neither of them looked at him he simply bowed and walked back to the castle, with Ghost following behind.

When she could no longer hear the soft cracking of his footsteps in the snow, Daenerys spoke sternly.

“The men have all been warned that you are not to join in this battle, Arya. Not in any form. I don’t know if you intend to disobey my orders or-“

“Why, Daenerys?”

To her surprise, the Queen was quickly interrupted by Arya, the soft-spoken words dripping with bitterness.

“Because-“

“No, no more bullshit reasons.” The girl stood up swiftly, locking eyes with the older woman as she tried to figure out what was going on. “I don’t want to hear anymore lies from you, no more stupid reasonings like this being about my shoulder or about my ability to fight or whatever you want to try and come up with.”

Unlike what Daenerys had expected, the girl was not nearly as angry as she had been earlier, and the fury she had been preparing for before coming here was missing.

Instead, she was met with a sadness she didn’t know how to handle.

“Don’t I deserve the truth, Daenerys? I thought you cared for me… _I thought you loved me…”_

She said the last part very quietly, almost too quiet for the older woman to hear.

But she did hear those last words, though, and they were enough to break her determination and step forward, her violet eyes full of emotion.

“Of course I love you, Arya!” She said, moving forward to gently grab the girl’s face, only to have her hands stopped before she could reach her.

“Then why are you doing this to me? Lying to me, ordering me around, forcing me to stay… That’s something you do to an assassin you don’t trust, not to someone you love…”

Arya held her hands tight, only inches from her face, and although Daenerys could see how desperately the girl wanted to let her hold her, she could also see the determination of her face, the need to learn the truth.

So she sighed and dropped her hands, moving to sit back down on the bench, motioning for Arya to do the same.

When the girl sat next to Daenerys began to talk, looking down as she did so.

“Earlier today your brother Bran came to speak with me. He told me something very important… A vision he’d had, about the White Walkers and the war and…”

“Me?” the older woman looked up to see the frown on Arya’s face, and quickly looked down again, nodding.

“He saw you, riding into battle, fighting off wights and walkers, coming face to face with the Night King… And then…”

A small crack in her voice and Arya immediately came closer to her, grabbing both of the other woman’s warm hands.

“And then..?” She asked, encouraging her to continue.

“And then he saw you, hurt badly and engulfed in flames… My dragons’ flames…” a sob was threatening to spill from Daenerys’ lips, but she held back and watched as the Stark girl processed her words.

“In flames? By the dragons? But Daenerys, that’s impossible, they would never do such a thing!”

“And yet they did, Arya! Or they will if you ride into battle with us!”

“But they would never-“

“Arya, please!” Daenerys shouted, full of emotion, “Has Bran ever been wrong? What he sees will come true, and I’ll be damned if I let you get hurt again!”

She brought her hand up to the girl’s face, caressing it softly. “I will never let you get hurt again, Arya. You have been through so much already, you deserve to live a long and happy life, not a quick death in a battle like this.”

When she saw those grey eyes pool with emotion, she quickly moved forward and captured her lips in a gentle kiss. As she pulled away she rested her forehead against the other woman’s, speaking ever so quietly.

“Please, Arya… You have saved me so many times, and you have gotten hurt in the process almost every single time. Let me be the one to save you this time. Don’t come to war with us.”

She watched the feelings flash by on Arya’s face and waited until the girl spoke, her heart beating fast.

“I…” Arya said, looking down for a bit. “I… This is too much, Daenerys. What you did, what you’re saying…” She stood up and let go of the other woman. “I… I have to think about this…”

And before Daenerys could speak again, Arya began walking back to the castle in the dark, her hand on Nymeria, her head held low.

Behind her the Queen’s head fell as well, and the sobs that had been threatening to spill out were finally released.

* * *

 

The next morning, at the crack of dawn, all people in and around Winterfell were up early – packing everything onto their horses and gearing up for the long ride to the Wall.

By the time Daenerys came outside, most men were already on their horses, ready to get on the road.

She was all packed as well, of course, and her horse was waiting for her with a stableboy, but she herself wasn’t ready to leave quite yet.

As she walked outside she looked around for the umpteenth time that morning, trying to catch a glimpse of her young wolf.

She hadn’t been in her room all night, or at breakfast, and in just a second she had scanned the place and found that the girl wasn’t there as well.

The woman sighed as she walked to Missandei, but tried not to look down too much – after all, she was the Queen, and all men looked up to her to find their own strength in this battle.

When she reached her friend, she was met with a sad  yet encouraging smile. “She’ll come, your Grace. She wouldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye…”

Daenerys was about to answer when she heard the large doors to the castle open again and her head whipped back hard.

Unfortunately, she only saw Sansa, Bran and Meera, coming outside to say goodbye to their brother.

She sighed deeply again, especially when she could see Jon ask about Arya and saw Sansa shake her head sadly.

When Jon simply nodded and mounted his horse, the Queen and Missandei did the same, following behind him to the large gate.

Daenerys looked behind her again, looking at the windows of the castle, hoping against hope that Arya was in there somewhere, watching her.

Her hopeful gazing was interrupted, though, when she heard a soft voice below her.

“Daenerys.”

As she almost passed through the gate, Arya had caught up with her.

The girl was breathing heavily, as if she had run all the way from King’s Landing to greet her.

Completely out of breath, she began to speak. “I’m sorry I ran away last night! I hate what you did but I understand now you were only trying to protect me, but then I ran from you even after you said you loved me and I continued to run even when I heard you cry because I was still angry and I couldn’t handle it, but then I realized that you were leaving and…”

She looked around, trying to find a way to get a grip on her words again, although the incredulous look on her brother’s face and the loving look on Missandei’s didn’t help her do that at all.

“And I realized that I want that, Daenerys. I want that happy life and I want to believe that I could deserve that. I really want to have that with you, Daenerys.”

The Queen slid down her horse to face the flushed woman.

“You once told me happiness was made up by storytellers and singers… Are you telling me you finally changed your mind..?”

Daenerys smiled affectionately at her, and after a moment Arya smiled right back.

“No… You did.” She said, more honest than the older woman had ever seen her. “I will stay in Winterfell for you, Daenerys. I will wait for you, and when you come back, we’ll have that happy ever after or whatever crap people make stories about, and-”

Shaking her head, Daenerys moved forward to kiss Arya passionately, stopping anything else she was about to say.

After a few seconds, though, the older woman ended their intimate embrace.

“I must go now, Arya.” She spoke, although she didn’t let go of the girl quite yet.

Arya nodded, still dizzy from the kiss.

“I’m going to send Nymeria with you, so she can keep an eye on you – and I as well.”

Daenerys mounted her horse again and smiled when the large direwolf came to stand next to her horse, looking as if she too was determined to go into war and keep her safe.

“And I will stay here, waiting… Promise you’ll come back to me?”

The older woman smiled sadly as she grabbed Arya’s hand one last time. “I could never leave you, Arya. We’ll be together… always.”

At those last words, the three finally rode out.

Arya joined Bran and Sansa as they watched all soldier leave Winterfell, leaving the castle and its surroundings almost empty.

The girl looked on sadly, her hand on her sword, itching to ride out with them… With her Queen.

“It will be alright, Ar. Jon and Daenerys, they’ll both come back safe…” Sansa smiled and put her hand on her shoulder, and although the younger sister could tell there was concern in her eyes as well, she nodded.

“Yeah, I’m sure they will be. They have dragons and direwolves! They couldn’t get hurt even if they tried.”

Arya said it jokingly, trying to put a smile on her sister’s face, all the while not noticing the sad look that flashed across Bran’s.


	36. Loyalty to the Crown

The forest around Winterfell was quiet that night. In the cold evening air the only sound that could be heard was that of the wind and some owls in the distance.

No more soldiers and wildlings snoring or talking, just silence.

Sansa sighed as she adjusted the furs she had wrapped around her.

Although she was sad that her brother and the men had left to fight, the quiet was very welcome after the past few months of meetings with Northern Lords, dealings with the Free Folk and all the preparations for the war to come.

As she sat there in the darkness with only the furs to keep her warm, she stared at the half-moon, thinking back of when everyone had left that morning.

It was a difficult goodbye; watching Jon leave again reminded her of the last time they had left Winterfell, when she, Arya and their father went to King’s Landing and Jon left for the Wall, leaving only her mother and Bran at home.

She tried her best to ignore the ominous feeling that history would repeat itself once more, but she knew Bran had felt it too.

Even though Jon didn’t feature in his vision about the upcoming battle, Sansa could tell that her younger brother was very anxious. After everyone had left, the young man immediately went to the Weirwood, hoping to get a glimpse of what was to come, trying to find out anything that could help their army defeat the army of the dead that they were up against.

But since he had missed dinner that night, Sansa knew he hadn’t found out anything new.

It had made for the most quiet dinner she had had since she came back to Winterfell. Now that Jon, Davos, Tormund and all the Lords had gone, only she, Brienne, Meera and Arya had been at the table.

_Arya…_

Sansa sighed again, closing her eyes as she thought back to the girl.

Her younger sister’s confession that morning had surprised her, to say the least. She had been able to tell that there was something going on between the Queen and Arya, sure, but up until their last goodbyes that morning Sansa wasn’t entirely sure what it was.

She smiled sadly thinking of it again. Her sister’s out-of-breath rant, her flushed face, the passionate kiss – Sansa had never expected the feelings between the Queen and her younger sibling to be as deep as they were, but watching their goodbye, their display of affection had warmed her heart.

It also made her heart ache afterwards, though. She had seen the sadness in her sister’s eyes, even as she tried to joke about it.

_“It will be alright, Ar. Jon and Daenerys, they’ll both come back safe…” Sansa smiled and put her hand on her shoulder, and although the younger sister could tell there was concern in her eyes as well, she nodded._

_“Yeah, I’m sure they will be. They have dragons and direwolves! They couldn’t get hurt even if they tried.”_

Sansa had smiled at the words, but the moment she turned around again she could see the smile disappear from Arya’s face to be replaced by a much sadder face.

It was a face she spotted more often throughout the day. Her sister would smile around people, but every once in a while – when the girl thought no one was looking, probably – Sansa saw her smile fall again.

A sound pulled Sansa from her thoughts and she was quickly alert again, looking around the dark forest.

_Nothing…_ she thought to herself as her scan of her moonlit surroundings came up empty. _I’m just being paranoid…_ She sighed as she sat down again, trying to get comfortable once more. _Please Gods, let me just be paranoid…_

She tried to be more attentive then , looking around her instead of just staring ahead, but since the moon was already past its highest point and she was growing tired, her mind kept going back to her little sister.

It was strange to see Arya, who Sansa now understood was a formidable assassin, look so emotional.

She had tried talking to her, of course.

After their quiet dinner, where Arya was still attempting to be lighthearted with Brienne and Meera, Sansa had followed her to her room.

_“Are you alright, Ar?”_

_Arya looked surprised as she turned around to see her sister standing in her doorway._

_“Look who needs to learn how to knock now, lady Stark.” She joked, smiling at her sister before she turned around again to walk towards the chairs in her room, clearing off some of the clutter that was on them so she and Sansa could sit down._

_To her credit, the older sibling ignored the mess of clothes and papers that were now littering the girl’s floor and simply sat down._

_“You didn’t answer my question, Arya… How are you holding up?”_

_The younger woman’s smile faded but remained on her face as she sighed._

_“I’m fine, San. Honest…”_

_Sansa shook her head at that. “Don’t lie to me, Arya. We both know you’re not fine. Watching both your brother and the woman you love leave for war… You can’t possibly be fine.”_

_Arya’ eyes grew wide at her sister’s words and she quickly looked down, adjusting her sling. “I- I’m…”_

_The auburn-haired woman arched her eyebrows at the stuttering, knowing that another lie would follow, but when Arya noticed the look on the other woman’s face she sighed again, her smile disappearing and her face turning more honest._

_“You’re right, San. I’m not fine. I just want them to be safe. The fact that I’m not there to help them-“_

_“It wouldn’t be safe for you to go and help them, Arya,” Sansa quickly interrupted, “If you go to battle you will definitely die. Jon and Daenerys both just want to keep you safe…”_

_“I know that,” Arya responded, although her face still looked defeated. “And it makes me happy that they care so much for me that they would go through such lengths to do so, but still… I just wish I could help them…”_

_Sansa couldn’t bear it anymore, her heart breaking at the sad look in her sister’s eyes, and she quickly moved forward to grab her sister’s good hand. “You waiting here for them is all the help they need, Arya. Just knowing that you are safe means the world to them. And as for protecting them, you and I both know Nymeria will do the job just as well as you could.”_

_Grey eyes blinked a few times at her words, but then Sansa was glad to see a small smile break out on her sister’s face._

_“You’re right, San, she will…” Sansa could feel her squeeze her hand as she spoke. “Thank you.”_

It was one of the best heart-to-hearts Sansa had ever had with her sister.

In fact, she thought it was the first time she had seen the closed-off girl be so open about her emotions, and the first time had seen the stubborn girl be so quick to admit her defeat.

It had been so honest, so open, that to Sansa it was hard to believe that this was the same younger sister that she had known when she was a little girl, and the same assassin that had come back to them earlier that year.

It had been so real, so much like the emotions she had always wanted her sister to show, that it seemed unreal to Sansa.

_Please, let me be paranoid … Please, let me be wrong…_ The older Stark thought again when she heard a sound coming from her right.

When after a few seconds there was the sound of a door opening and the sound of snow cracking beneath two light feet, she sighed again.

As Sansa stood up from her hiding space underneath the tree and saw a small figure coming out of the castle, clad in wildling furs and carrying a large pack on their back, she had never been so disappointed to be right.

“Going somewhere, Arya?”

As she walked closer, Sansa could see the figure’s head shooting up at the sound of her voice, and then falling before turning around.

As she came face to face with her sister, Arya lifted her head again and grinned wolfishly from underneath the grey fur hood.

“You were waiting out here for me.”

It wasn’t a question, more a statement, but Sansa nodded regardless.

“Why?”

_How?_

Arya was suddenly very nervous, although she had a strong mask in place to make sure her sister wouldn’t realise it.

_How could she possibly have known?_

She thought she had done everything perfectly. From the moment she had ran out to see Daenerys that morning she had controlled every single facial expression, she had thought about every word she had said, she had tried her best to do what everyone wanted her to do.

She had told her Queen everything the woman wanted to hear, as convincingly as she could, saying a lot of things she actually felt but would otherwise probably not have said, combined with a few well-placed lies.

She had pretended to be tough all day, but let sadness shine through every once in a while so that Sansa could see the emotions she so desperately wanted to see.

She had been lying so perfectly that she thought even Jaqen H’ghar would have been impressed.

And yet here she was now, all packed and ready to leave in the dead of night, only to have her plans thwarted.

“Why? Arya…” Sansa sounded exasperated, and Arya could see the look of disappointment on her sister’s face, but refused to feel bad about it. After all, she herself felt even more disappointed right now.

“I have been waiting out here all night, hoping that I had no reason to be here whatsoever. Hoping that the bad feeling I had would turn out to be wrong. That I would be able to go back inside tomorrow morning and have breakfast with you and that everything would be as it should be. As _you_ promised it would be.” She started pacing in front of the smaller woman, feeling angrier by the second as the girl’s face remained impassive. “And yet here we are, it’s the middle of the night and you are sneaking out the back door, dressed like a wildling and packed to go to war! _What in Seven Hells, Arya_!?”

Sansa’s voice gradually became louder as she spoke, and when it cracked at the end it became hard for Arya to stay emotionless.

_Damn it all…_ she thought to herself, finally looking down and pushing back her hood.

“Look, San…”  the former assassin said, scratching her hair anxiously. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but…” she sighed, locking onto distraught blue eyes. “what else was I supposed to do?”

Her older sister almost exploded at those last words. “ _What were you supposed to do?!_ You were supposed to wait! To stay here, to watch over the battle through Nymeria, to _stay alive_!”

She stepped closer to the smaller woman, gesturing wildly as she did so.

“You _know_ going there will kill you, Arya! You know about Bran’s vision, you know leaving Winterfell means you’ll die! And I’ll be damned if I let you leave like that! I’ll have Brienne chase you if I have to, I’ll warn Jon and the Queen and –“

 “Oh to Hell with Bran’s vision!” Arya interrupted her sister before she could continue, annoyed at everything she said. “Yes, I know about it, Daenerys told me. About the dragons killing me with their fire, I know. But he’s wrong! Those dragons would never hurt me! And another thing-“

Before she could continue her rant, a voice coming from the woods stopped her.

“I’m not wrong, Arya.”

The two sisters turned around to see Bran coming from the forest in his wheelchair, pushed by a clearly uncomfortable Meera.

Arya rolled her eyes.

_Oh come ON! Was he waiting for me as well? What the-_

“Don’t look so disappointed, Arya. Of course we both knew you’d be here.” Bran gave a sad grin. “We’re your siblings. No matter how well you lie, we know you…”

His words surprised Arya for a moment, and taken aback she sighed and rubbed her hand over her now very tired eyes.

“Fine… Alright, I get it, you know me and you both want to keep me safe.”

Sansa and Bran both nodded, and then quickly spoke when their sister was about to follow up with a ‘but’.

“Of course we do, Ar,” the older woman said, smiling slightly. “And so do Jon and Daenerys! And I know you want to fight with them, and keep them safe, but just be honest: if Bran had had a vision like this about either of them, would you have let them go?”

The question brought the look of determination back to the younger girl’s eyes, making her focus on Bran’s face as she tried to read it.

“That was the other thing I was curious about…” Arya said, suddenly very serious.

From the corner of her eye she could see her sister frown questioningly, but her own gaze was very much focused on her brother’s now anxious face.

“What _did_ you see in your vision, Bran?”

Bran’s eyes flicked to the left a few times before he answered defiantly. “The Queen told you, Arya. I saw you in battle, facing off against the Night King and then being engulfed in-“

“-the dragons’ flames, sure.” Arya interrupted, growing impatient now as she moved closer to her little brother, crouching down until she was more or less at eyelevel.

“What else did you see?” Her voice sounded threatening enough to make Meera back away, but Bran stayed in place, trying not to flinch.

Again, his eyes flickered as he answered. “What- What else? Nothing, was… Is me seeing your death not enough for you?”

Arya sighed, shaking her head. “Don’t lie to me, little brother. You, with all your wisdom, you _know_ lying to me is impossible. Just as impossible as the idea that in your vision about the biggest war Westeros has ever seen, you would only have seen me facing off against the Night King. So I’ll ask you again… _What. Did. You. See_?”

Bran looked to his left to see a confused Sansa staring at him, and then focused on the angry grey eyes in front of him again.

He sighed as he looked down.

“I- I’m sorry, Arya, Queen Daenerys made me swear I wouldn’t tell you…”

“Tell her what?” a confused Sansa came closer as well, frowning.

Arya arched her eyebrows at her now clearly distraught brother.

 “That Arya’s wasn’t the only death I saw in my vision.”

“Wait, what-?” Sansa was trying to let the information sink in, but Arya wouldn’t allow her the time.

“I knew it, “ she said, although her voice sounded fearful rather than victorious. “Who else dies, Bran, please, just tell me. What did you see? Tell me everything.”

Bran looked back at her with defeated brown eyes. “I saw the battlefield. Miles and miles of dead, Walkers, wights and humans alike littering the snow. I saw Jon, Ghost and Nymeria at his side, fighting a group of Walkers. I saw the dragons, setting wights on fire. I-“ he swallowed dryly, looking between his two sisters. “I saw the Queen, in the midst of it all, a flaming sword in her hand. I saw her fighting against the Night King.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath and forced himself to look Arya in the eyes again, although he could hardly bear the worry shining in them.

“And then what, Bran?”

Her voice sounded calm, but the boy knew his sister was anything but.

“Then I saw him push her down, her sword out of her reach. I saw him lift his spear, about to pierce her heart… Then I saw you, running towards them, screaming… And then the last thing I saw was you, being consumed by the dragons’ flames…”

As he stopped talking, the silence fell on them.

Arya was still sitting in front of the young man, her head tilted down.

He lifted his hand to touch her, but the girl stood up and turned her back to him quickly. “Ar, I’m sorry… I would have told you… I would have told all of you,” he said, looking at Sansa as well. “But the-“

“But Daenerys made you promise not to tell us.” Arya interjected, her voice clipped.

Bran looked down. “She said it was for your own good… We… I only wanted to keep you safe.”

He could see her sister nod at his words, but she still wouldn’t turn around.

He looked up when Sansa touched his shoulder and smiled back at his oldest sister, before he watched her move towards Arya.

She stood behind her younger sister, putting her hand on the smaller woman’s shoulder, and sighed before she spoke.

“This… I understand this comes as a shock to you, Arya. It’s a shock to me too. But this doesn’t change anything.”

She knew she had said the wrong thing when her sister swiftly turned around, an incredulous look on her face.

“ _Doesn’t change anything?_ ” Arya almost spat out the words. “This changes _everything_ , Sansa! I don’t just _die_ in Bran’s vision! I die _saving_ her!”

Sansa shook her head, grabbing her sister by the shoulders. “You don’t know that, Arya. Maybe Daenerys doesn’t die at all, and it’s just you, or maybe she does and you rush in regardless, to then be caught up in the dragon’s flames, or-“

“Or maybe he’s about to stab her and I’m the only one who can save her!” Arya shouted, pushing her sister back in anger.

“You can’t know that, Arya!” Sansa screamed, just as exasperated. “Her fate is uncertain, but yours _is_. If you go to battle you’ll _die_!”

“I’D RATHER DIE KNOWING SHE’S SAFE THAN LIVE WITHOUT HER!”

Arya looked on the verge of tears as she yelled, immediately causing Sansa’s anger to be replaced by heartache.

“I-“ the smaller woman continued more quietly, deflating completely now. “I can’t do it, San. If she dies… I don’t want to live anymore…”

“Arya…” Sansa said, sounding defeated. “That’s…”

Arya swallowed as she rubbed her eyes, and then pulled her shoulders back and held her head high again.

She looked at her siblings, her grey eyes determined as she spoke.

“I can’t stay here knowing that she might die, San. So call your guards, call Brienne, warn Daenerys… I don’t care, I _have_ to go.”


	37. So it begins

The landscape was almost completely white. There was no rock, no tree, no blade of grass that was not covered by inches of snow.

The light powdery snow had begun falling a few days ago, and had not stopped since then, covering everything and everyone in a thick layer.

It was hard on her men; the Queen could see that much.

From what she could see from her place in the troop, the Northerners were handling the current weather the best, although even those men, used to the climate as they were, had a constant look of discomfort on their faces.

That displeased look was nothing compared, though, to the looks she could see on the faces of her complaining Southern lords, as well as on her own summer-born Dothraki and Unsullied.

Her men were clearly not used to these conditions, to the cold and the constant snow around them, to the icy wetness of their boots at the end of the day, to the dire conditions of the terrains they had to make camp in, to the lack of any kind of heat in general.

Daenerys had to admit to herself that even she, with her dragon’s blood, was growing weary of the continuous feeling that her body parts might at some point freeze off.

She, however, was lucky enough to be protected by her very own living heat pack.

As they walked on through the deep snow, her horse ploughing through arduously, the large wolf was right next to her, watching her every move as she had done since the moment they had left Winterfell days ago.

The woman looked at the direwolf and, noticing the change in the animal’s eyes, she smiled.

“Checking up on me again, Arya? That is the fourth time already, and it’s only just past noon… Are things that boring in Winterfell?”

Nymeria growled at her words, and Daenerys could swear the animal even rolled its eyes. She grinned, happy to see that her love’s antics did not change even while she was wearing the animal’s skin.

When grey eyes bore into hers, clearly trying to convey something she was currently not able to communicate with words, the Queen’s face became more serious.

She looked ahead of her as she rode on, trying to make out anything but snow and trees.

“Your brother says we should be getting to Castle Black somewhere today, but with the snowfall I can’t see it yet. It’s hard to believe there is anything beyond this snow, truth be told.”

The wolf nodded, its head tilted down as it walked on. Daenerys bent down a little to touch its head, caressing it softly.

“Don’t worry, little wolf, we won’t be attacked just yet. Not until we go beyond the Wall, at least. So be at ease, talk with your sister, or spar with Brienne if you wish.” She smiled as she saw what she could only describe as an Arya-like grin appear on the wolf. “Just join me again tonight. I’ll be safe for now.”

The animal nodded at her words, and as Daenerys straightened in her saddle again and took her hand off, she could see the wolf’s eyes change back to Nymeria’s.

She smiled when the animal gave a short bark and then ran into the forest, probably hunting for her food or scouting ahead.

“How do you always see it, Your Grace?” Missandei came up from behind to ride next to her, a look of pure awe on her face. “How do you always know when the wolf is Arya? Even when you say it is her, I can never see it.”

The Queen looked at her friend, a small grin forming on her face.

“How was Grey Worm, Missandei?” She asked, consciously ignoring the question as she watched the taller girl’s face go darker.

“I…”

Before the embarrassed translator could answer, she was interrupted when they saw Jon Snow ride up from in front of them and pull up his horse to ride on the Queen’s other side.

“Your Grace,” the man spoke, both his voice and his eyes solemn as he rode next to her.

“Lord Snow,” Daenerys nodded, eyeing him for a moment. “What news? Will we be reaching the Wall soon, as you promised yesterday?”

 Despite everything, the man grinned slightly. “Aye, the Wall and everything beyond it. We should reach Castle Black somewhere in the next two hours.”

The Queen nodded again. “Good. The men will be happy to finally go to battle after all these days of simply walking.”

Jon nodded. “There’s that, sure, but I’m sure they’ll also appreciate being warm and indoors… Even if it’s just for one night.”

Before Daenerys could respond to the grim remark, the former King in the North continued.

“We’ve had ravens, your Grace, two of them.”

He handed the Queen the already unsealed pieces of parchment. She almost felt like addressing the fact that the man had clearly already read them, but she decided against it – she knew Jon meant no harm, and that he was as invested as she was in this battle, perhaps even more.

Anger and resentment within their ranks would be useless.

So she simply unrolled the papers again with her gloved hands, her eyes raking across the words.

“I see. So your select group of Northerners and Free Folk have reached the Nightfort. They made good time.”

He nodded, but didn’t speak as he watched her read the second letter.

“And the Karstark and Mormont group expects to reach Oakenshield by nightfall… Very good, then everyone will be in place to begin our battle tomorrow.” She looked up from the paper. “You will let them know we will proceed as planned first thing in the morning.”

She expected another nod from the young man, but instead he looked down.

Daenerys frowned. “Or was there something else, lord Snow?”

He looked up at her, uncertain. “It’s just… First thing in the morning, after all these days marching in the cold… The men are tired, and all but frozen, perhaps we should-“

“Rest? Warm themselves by the fires for a few days, or weeks even, eat their fills until they are strong enough to defeat an already dead enemy?”

Her voice grew louder as she spoke, although she made sure none of the men around her – bar Missandei of course – could hear her.

“Lord Snow… Jon, you yourself have told me that there might not even be enough place in Castle Black, and definitely not in the other two settlements for all our soldiers. You told me the food supplies of the Night’s Watch would only last us a week at best, and the ones we brought from Winterfell are almost all gone.” She looked into his eyes, a sympathetic look on her face. “I understand you want to be able to be in top condition for the coming war, I do too. But you and I both know delaying the fight is impossible. Waiting longer might give our men time to rest, but it will also finish the rest of our food reserves, and then what?”

He began nodding, running his hand through his hairs as he did so. “Aye, you’re right. I- I do know this… It’s just…”

As he sighed, realization dawned on Daenerys.

“Jon…” she spoke quietly, putting her hand on his shoulder, “There is no way around it. We need to fight this battle… regardless of who or what the enemy is. No matter how many of them there are, or what they can do… We have to fight.”

The woman finally recognized the fear on the Stark’s face, and for a moment she was reminded of Arya’s as she looked at him, and wished the girl was with her now.

She wasn’t, though, and the moment quickly passed when the girl’s older brother spoke again.

“You haven’t seen them, Your Grace. Those walkers… they’re nothing like anything you’ve ever seen before. And the Night King…”

Hearing that name made her think of Bran’s vision – about his prediction of her death – and her heart stopped for a second.

She ignored the sudden surge of fear that coursed through her, though, and quickly interjected.

“We do not have a choice, lord Snow. We have gathered all men, both Northern and Southern and way beyond that, to fight for Westeros. And fight we shall. Because if _we_ don’t fight now, there will be nothing left for this land’s children to fight for.”

Jon nodded, but his gaze stayed solemn as he rode on.

Daenerys quickly glanced to her left to see a frowning Missandei staring at her, curiosity clear on her face, but she didn’t respond to the girl’s worried look.

She simply followed Jon’s example and rode on in silence, lost in thoughts as they marched closer and closer to her undoing.

* * *

 

It was over three hours later when they finally arrived at Castle Black, and although night had not fallen yet, the sky around them seemed much darker.

Daenerys had to admit that despite everything she had heard, despite all the maps she had studied with Jon and the other lords, despite their meticulous planning and discussing of all the properties of the Wall and its settlements, she had never expected the Wall to be so enormous.

While she and Missandei watched in awe at the gigantic structure, the look on the lord Snow’s face grew darker the closer they got to it.

When they finally reached the Castle Black courtyard and were able to dismount, the Queen shifted her focus from the massive wall of snow and ice to Jon Snow, who was being greeted by an equally worried looking man of the Night’s Watch.

“Edd,” she heard Jon say as he firmly hugged the man. “Or should I say Commander Tollett now?”

She heard the man – the commander – huff as he let go.

“If there’s one man who should never call me that, it’s you, _King_ Snow.”

“Actually,” Jon quickly responded, looking at Daenerys, “I’m not the king anymore, Edd. May I introduce to you Queen Daenerys Targaryen, ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and Mother of Dragons.”

The Queen stepped forward, ignoring the incredulous look on the man’s face as she smiled politely, although she made sure her eyes held a fierce look in them.

“Your Grace,” Jon continued, hoping that his friend would snap out of his stupor, “This is Eddinus Tollett, Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch.”

She nodded at the man, waiting for him to speak up. When he finally realized he was supposed to speak, he bowed quickly and stuttered as he began to talk.

“Milady- I mean, y-your Grace, it is an honour to meet you.” He waved at the castle around him. “Welcome to Castle Black. It’s not much, and-uh we don’t have much, but it is yours.”

Daenerys smiled. “Thank you, lord Commander. If you do not mind, our men have travelled a long and cold way..”

The commander immediately nodded. “Of course, your Grace. My brothers will help them inside straight away. We have prepared fires in all quarters, and the food is almost ready to be served..”

“Excellent.” The Queen answered. “I should like to go up to my room as well. We have arrived here later than I had expected, and I would like to go over the plan once more and rest up myself. We have some long days ahead of us yet.”

She began walking toward the door that all her men were entering, when she heard Edd speak up behind her.

“Ah, Your Grace! I beg your pardon, but before you do that…” He looked at both her and Jon as he continued, frowning. “There is something you must see.”

Daenerys saw Jon nod at the statement, and when he looked up at the Wall she followed his gaze.

“It has shrunk even more since I saw it last.”

Edd nodded as he walked toward the elevator, Jon, Daenerys and Missandei following in tow.

“Shrunk?” the Queen asked quickly, hurrying behind the two men. “What are you talking about, it’s enormous!”

Jon shook his head. “Aye, it’s still big, but compared to last year it’s become much smaller.”

When he noticed the silver-haired woman’s frown he pointed at the structure that was placed against the wall.

“You see that?” he said, pointing at the lift. “It’s the elevator that has been used for decades to get to the top of the Wall. When I was here last year, it came as high as the Wall. Now, though…”

She followed the trail of the lift to the top, and it finally hit her. “The rails of the lift go much higher than the edge of the Wall…” She said loudly, trying to mask the surprise from showing on her face. “But how?”

Jon sighed. “They’ve begun chopping at the Wall. They have been doing so for a few months now, ever since they began to break the spells that protect it, wights have been cutting into it, picking at the snow, causing parts of the Wall to break off and fall down.”

“But isn’t that dangerous? Doesn’t doing that hurt them as well?” Missandei spoke, the shock clear on her face.

The former Commander nodded. “It does. But that doesn’t matter to them. They’re already dead, they don’t feel pain. If one gets covered in snow, another takes its place. The wights’ll work day and night, without rest, breaking the wall down bit by bit. For the past months they’ve done so without stopping…”

“Actually…” Edd spoke, opening the doors to the elevator, “That’s what I wanted to show you.”

With a frown on his face as well, Jon stepped into the elevator, closely followed by the Queen and Missandei and, before Edd could join them, an agitated Nymeria.

If the current Commander was in any way shocked by a large dire-wolf coming with them he didn’t show it, and simply closed the doors behind them.

When the lift began to move, Daenerys fought the urge to grab onto something in fear. Instead, she petted the wolf’s head, glad that the animal wished to keep her safe even when she wasn’t possessed by her lover.

As they reached the top of the Wall and stepped out of the cart, the Queen spoke.

“So,” she said, wrapping her furs more tightly around her against the cold cutting wind, “what is it you wanted to show us?”

The man looked grim as he walked in front of them to the edge of the Wall.

“It is as Jon said. They have been cutting away at the Wall, breaking it off bit by bit over the course of miles. They haven’t stopped in days… Until about an hour ago…”

Jon frowned. “What do you mean?” He asked, but Edd only shook his head.

“See for yourself…”

When the group inched closer to the edge of the Wall, they finally understood.

In the darkening sky they could make out the snowpiles beneath them, remnants of the Wall. They could vaguely see some limbs jutting out from it, unmoving, and some arrows lodged in.

There was no movement, though. Not below them, where she could see there had been recent activity by the way the snow looked, and not in front of them near the trees either.

She saw nothing move, and would have only focused on the lack of wights below them, were it not for Nymeria growling next to her and Jon Snow cursing on her other side.

As she saw the look on the man’s face turn to pure horror she looked ahead again as well, focusing on the tree line he was looking at.

It took her a moment to realize that those were not trees.

Unmoving and large though they were, they were anything but trees.

She could see pale faces, icy weapons, and in some even piercing blue eyes. And when she had finally noticed one of them, she noticed ten, and then twenty, and then hundreds or even thousands more behind them.

And ahead of the troop, one stood out. He was not taller, he did not look that much stronger, but it was when her eyes locked with his that despite the large distance between them she felt the need to take a step back.

“I-Is that…?” She stuttered, barely able to form words anymore.

Her fear became almost palpable, when she suddenly felt the wolf gently lean against her, her now big grey eyes looking at her comfortingly.

She caressed the wolf as Jon answered her unspoken question solemnly.

“Aye..” He said, looking at the wolf and the Queen for a moment before focusing his gaze North again.

“That is the Night King.”


	38. We Fight

When the first light crept in through the blinds of her quarters, Daenerys tried her best to ignore the sign of the new day, keeping her eyes shut for as long as she could.

She had not been able to sleep well that night. Although it was good to finally have a bed again, to not feel the cold air seep through the tent flaps and into her furs, her sleep was more restless than it had been the past few days.

She woke up every other hour it seemed, when the image of the Night King pushed itself into her mind again, only to be calmed down quickly by the large wolf that was nestled next to her.

The Queen rubbed her hands across the animal’s warm fur once more. She tried to imagine someone else lying next to her, keeping her warm, but although the animal did remind her of the girl, having her was not as good as having Arya in her bed.

As she heard the first sounds of men waking up outside her quarters, she knew she would not be able to go back to sleep, so instead of postponing the inevitable some more she got up.

When Daenerys moved to sit upright, stretching, Nymeria immediately followed suit, stretching herself out as well as she jumped out of bed.

It had become a bit of a habit for them these past couple of days, one the woman had been very grateful for; they would go to bed at night and Arya would be there, nestling herself against the Queen, her eyes expressing all the worry and love she could through the wolf. They would fall asleep together, and when Daenerys got up, the wolf would do the same, and only moments after Arya would be there again, her grey eyes tired but alert.

The silver haired woman was waiting for the wolf’s eyes to change again, for her love to join her in this final morning, but she was sad to see that the eyes remained their own dark golden colour.

_It is still early_ , the Queen thought to herself, _Arya must not have senses that Nymeria woke up._

She decided to get dressed, then, hoping that her own little wolf would be joining her shortly, but by the time she was ready and a knock on the door indicated that Missandei was too, Arya still had not shown up.

“Come in,” she said, masking a sigh and quickly turning it into a smile when her friend walked in.

“Good morning, Your Grace,” Missandei said, matching her smile, although her eyes looked somber. “And good morning to you, Arya,” she added when the wolf went to greet her.

“It’s not Arya, Missandei, just Nymeria,” Daenerys said, trying to hide the bitterness in her voice.

The taller woman looked surprised. “Has she left already? That’s quick, normally she stays until after breakfast…”

The Queen wanted to say that she hadn’t even been there yet, when suddenly another knock on the door indicated that both their breakfast and Jon and Davos had arrived.

So Daenerys decided to forgo saying anything and, ignoring the frown on Missandei’s face, she focused on the two grim-looking men as they entered.

“Your Grace, good morning.” Jon said, his tone as serious as his face.

“Good morning Lord Snow, Lord Davos,” the Queen answered, thoughts about Arya fleeing her mind as she herself became serious as well. “So… One last meeting before battle?”

Both men nodded as they sat down, and the three began their discussion again, immediately picking up where they left off the night before.

They discussed the plan for what seemed like the thousandth time that month: the dragons as their first way to thin out the enemy’s frontline and a way to get through the three gates at Castle Black, the Nightfort and Oakenshield without being ambushed at the gates, the dragons as an additional help to start fires at the back of the lines, the men going through the gates, how many men should stay behind in case the Walkers did break through their defenses, how many should function as medics on the battlefield, if any, how they should treat their dead, since they could raise again and join the enemy’s army at any second…

They had argued over all these elements so many times over the past couple of days, and even though they had come to an agreement about most things, there were still some parts of the plan that were being doubted.

Her and her dragons being the number one point of discussion.

“I still don’t feel you should go in, Your Grace,” Jon said, chewing on a piece of bread more out of habit than out of hunger. “You are the Queen of Westeros. Having you face them head on, even if you are flying the dragons… It’s just dangerous.”

Daenerys did her best to suppress a sigh. “But also necessary, Jon. You know I cannot tell my dragons where to go from here. I need to go with them and lead them before they will do as we wish.”

He nodded, but the silver haired woman could see where his thoughts would go next. “Yes, Your Grace, but what if you-“

“My dragons will not fall, but, if we do need to make a crash landing and I get attacked by the Walkers I will not be unarmed.” She looked at Firebringer, the sword was hanging next to her coat, ready to be strapped to her back. “I have been learning to use it, as you well know, and although I realise I might not yet be good enough to do the entire battle with it, I can use it to hold the enemy off until I can call another dragon.”

She watched as Jon opened his mouth to argue again. “Perhaps, but-“ And this time, she couldn’t help but sigh.

“No, Jon, no more arguments.” She said, her face determined as she stood up. “We have discussed this countless times, and you have lost this discussion countless times. The plan we have now is the best one we will have. We could discuss for days, weeks, months even, but the conclusion would remain the same.”

She moved away from the table, having said her final words, and Missandei quickly followed her as she helped her put on the light armour that had been made for her.

“If only Arya could have been here…” she heard his voice behind her, so soft she barely even made out the words, “she would at least have been able to go with you, to keep you safe.”

After a long pause, where the only sound in the room was the crackling of the fireplace and the sound of armour being clicked in place, Daenerys finally turned around, her face sad but determined.

“Yes… If only her being here would not kill her…”

At her words, Jon looked down for a moment, before finally nodding.

“Alright,” he said, standing up, watching as Davos did the same before looking at the Queen again.

“Alright.”

He tied his sword to his belt as well, and put on his cloak as he nodded once more.

“Ready when you are, Your Grace.”

She was glad to finally see determination in his eyes as well, and smiled as she turned to Missandei.

“Missandei-“, she began, but before she could continue the taller girl had already wrapped her up in a hug.

“I wish you didn’t need to go, Daenerys…” the woman spoke so softly only the Queen could hear it.

Daenerys smiled into the hug,  breathing in her best friend’s familiar scent for the last time.

“I know, but we both know I must…” She took a deep breath before she continued, hugging her friend as close as she could. “I need you to know that I love you, Missandei. You have been a close friend, you have been like family to me. I…”

She paused, not able to continue, and when she did her friend jumped in.

“Daenerys… Why does it feel like you’re saying goodbye to me?”

The silver haired woman could hear the sadness in the girl’s voice, and it broke her heart, but she didn’t let it show. When she broke the hug, Daenerys simply smiled and put her hand on the other woman’s face.

“Be safe, Missandei,” she said, before turning around and following the two men outside.

As she closed the door behind her, she saw Jon and Davos standing at the balcony overlooking the courtyard.

When she joined them, she saw that the men were ready – or as ready as they could be, at least.

They were all packed and armed, but instead of looking up at them or talking loudly they were looking down.

As she looked through the open gates she could see her Dothraki moving around in the distance, but even they seemed more silent than she had ever seen them before a battle.

“Shall you address them again, your Grace?” Jon asked, looking at the men below them.

Daenerys followed his gaze, but before she could answer him Davos already shot in.

“Sorry to say, Lord Snow, but I don’t think any words we say right now will be enough to give them hope in this hopeless battle.”

She could hear Jon sigh next to her, and looking at the men she felt inclined to follow the sentiment, but she decided against it and instead put her head up high.

“You’re right, Lord Davos,” she spoke, her voice fierce. “Words will not be of any use at this point. Deeds, however, might.”

She nodded at the two, her eyes conveying all the determination she felt in hopes of inciting some in the other men, and moved down the stairs, her head high and her shoulders straight as she walked confidently through the mass of men, out of the gates and to the side of her Khalassar.

Daenerys nodded at Aggo as he came to greet her.

“ _Khaleesi_ ,” he said, bowing slightly and more stiffly than the woman had ever seen him, “I have fed the dragons as much as we could miss, in hope they will be strong in the battle to come.”

She smiled gratefully at her bloodrider.  “Thank you, Aggo. Are the men ready for battle?”

He paused for a moment, but then he nodded. “We are fighting death itself today, Khaleesi, so many are… nervous. But we are Dothraki. We are always ready for battle.”

Daenerys put her hand on his shoulder and nodded as he walked away, joining the others on their horses. She felt a pang of guilt for taking these men away from their homeland, from their lands full of gras and horses, and bringing them here to these dire circumstances.

But in the end, they had followed her here. She had not forced them.

She tried to clear her mind as she went to unchain the dragons, but was distracted one last time when she saw a grey flash step in between her and Drogon.

“Nymeria?” she exclaimed, thinking she had left the animal with Jon.

When she saw grey eyes looking back at her, though, she smiled softly.

“Arya…” she crouched down until she was at eyelevel with the animal. “I almost feared I wouldn’t get to see you again.”

The wolf leaned forward, resting her forehead against the woman’s.

Daenerys was surprised at the movement, but quickly recovered as she leaned in as well, and put her hands on either side of the animal’s face.

“I have to leave, Arya. The battle is about to begin, everyone is ready. I just…” she swallowed dryly.

Her heart hurt just thinking about the girl.

About how she had left her.

_Forever._

She leaned back again, keeping her hands on the wolf’s face as she looked into those deep grey eyes.

“I just need you to know how much I love you, Arya. Gods!” She looked up at the sky as she tried to fight back her tears, shaking her head. “I cannot even say how much I love you, little wolf. Perhaps if I had said it sooner, perhaps if I had begun fighting for you sooner, maybe then we…”

She swallowed again and shook her head before she locked eyes with her love again, smiling softly. “It doesn’t matter now, I suppose. Just know that I love you, Arya, and that I will always be with you.”

Daenerys saw the grey eyes turn watery – if that was even possible for a wolf – and quickly continued. “Just be safe, my wolf, my love. Promise me that no matter what happens, you’ll be safe.”

For some reason, she imagined she saw anger flash in the wolf’s grey eyes, but before her mind could truly register it the eyes went to normal again, and the animal nodded.

The woman smiled and placed one final kiss on the wolf’s head before she turned back to mount Drogon.

“Goodbye, Arya.”

She couldn’t say how much she wished the wolf could speak at that moment. How much she longed to hear Arya’s voice again, to hear the girl say goodbye back, to hear the girl say she loved her, to kiss her as they had kissed the last time in Winterfell, before she flew to her death.

Instead, she had to take comfort in knowing that although they had not been able to say goodbye, at least her love was safe at Winterfell.

So before Arya could see her tears she took to the sky, letting go of her feelings and focusing on the battle once more.

As she soared through the sky, before she went beyond the Wall she wanted to make sure her people felt motivated. So she passed by the Dothraki first, who loudly screamed as she flew overhead.

Then she flew by the Free Folk, who were happy enough to follow the Dothraki’s cheers, causing a wave of shouts even as she passed the Northerner and the Southerners that were now lining up by the gates through the Wall.

As she reached Castle Black itself, she shot one last look at Jon and Davos, who still looked serious but at least a bit more determined as she flew by, and at Missandei, whom she shot one last smile before she bent the dragons’ course upward, almost scaling the side of the Wall before they went over it.

She immediately saw that the army of the dead had not moved that night, but still stood, waiting at only a few meters from the Wall.

The only thing that had changed was the Night King: the previous evening he had been at the front of the troop, but now he was nowhere to be seen.

Daenerys felt a combination of relief and annoyance at the fact: relief because she wouldn’t need to face him straight away, and annoyance because she had hoped to be able to light him on fire right from the start.

She ignored both feelings, though, and simply stuck to the plan as she brought her dragons down to the front line.

“DRACARYS.”

* * *

 

Daenerys didn’t how many wights and Walkers she had burned through, or how many miles of dead had set on fire, but by the time the sun was at its highest point she had burned through most of their front lines.

From on top of Drogon she could see their own men seeping in, first through the gates at Oakenshield and the Nightfort, and finally she could see that the men were in formation at Castle Black as well, where the army of the White Walkers had the most dead and had been giving her the most trouble.

Her dragons had been burning through them easily enough, but the army of dead was so enormous that even while some where still burning, others would already push through, making it hard for the Queen to give her men time to get behind the Wall.

So she had quickly decided to go to the Nightfort and Oakenshield first, where there were more trees that would also hinder the army from passing through the fire, to then go full force on Castle Black.

Which was why now, after hours of setting line after line of wights on fire, they had finally created a long enough line of flames that the rest of the army didn’t dare push through, and her men could get ready.

When she saw the troop of Dothraki finally get through the gates as well, she knew almost everyone was there.

She didn’t stop, though.

Although she was tired, she was determined to let her dragons tear through the biggest part of the enemy’s forces, so that her people would stand a fighting chance.

So instead of just focusing on the line of fire she had already created, she decided to go even further back, bringing her dragons down and back up again, breathing fire on as many Walker as possible.

They continued on, with Rhaegar and Viserion at their side, moving toward the back of the army, now, killing as many as they could.

When Daenerys could finally see the end of the enemy’s army, she began to feel hopeful that maybe her dragons alone would be enough to win this war, when suddenly a chill ran down her spine.

She felt him before she could see him, the feeling immediately making her look for him.

When she finally saw the Night King, only metres away, she knew why the chill had crept up on her, and quickly swerved Drogon to the side as she saw the spear coming right at them.

The long ice spear was thrown with such power that when she followed it with her gaze, she saw it destroy an entire rock formation behind her.

Her breath caught in her throat when she imagined that thing piercing one of her children, the idea shocking enough to freeze completely.

It was only when she saw the Night King grab a second spear that she quickly took action.

She turned Drogon around as fast as she could, making a beeline back for the Wall, and she immediately grabbed the horn on her belt to give a few wolfish howls.

Without looking back she knew Rhaegar and Viserion were following her, and when after a few metres she did look back she was glad she had gotten them out when she did: only seconds after she saw the next spear fall down right behind Viserion’s tail, only barely missing him.

She tried to get her breathing back to normal as she raced back to Castle Black, behind the line of fire, to a familiar figure in a grey cloak that was joined by a white and a grey wolf.

Daenerys brought her dragons down and got off quickly, checking her three dragons for injuries as she saw Jon and the wolves hurry to her side.

“Your Grace,” Jon said, nodding in appreciation. “The men have all made it past the Wall, thanks to your dragons. We are ready when the fire dies out, and… Are you alright, Your Grace?”

The Queen was trying very hard to not let her fear show on her face, but from the worried look on his she could tell she was failing so she knew there was no use in lying.

“I… I saw the Night King.” Jon’s eyes went wide, and it looked like he wanted to interrupt her, but he quickly shut his mouth and let her speak. “He was at the back of the army, and he…”

She took a deep breath and tried to keep her head held high, so the men behind them wouldn’t see how anxious she was. “He had these large ice spears, and he could throw them so hard and… Damnit, Jon, he almost hit Drogon and Viserion!”

She moved toward Nymeria now, petting the dog to distract herself. For a second she thought she had seen those eyes flicker grey, but now they were as yellow as ever so she ignored it.

Behind her, she could hear Jon following her. “He… Your Grace, he could have hit them, but could he have hurt-“

“The force behind the spears was strong enough to break rocks, so yes, I believe he could have.”

Daenerys looked up again to see worry on his face, although he too tried to conceal it for the rest of their army.

After a moment, he shook his head. “Then you shouldn’t go back out there, Your Grace. If the Night King hits one of your dragons…”

“He won’t.” Daenerys quickly intervened, her courage coming back to her now that she had gotten over the initial shock. “I know where he is now. I’ll fly over to Oakenshield and help them out, burn the side of the army so they can double around and surround them here.” She already moved to mount Drogon again before Jon could begin to argue. “I’ll stay away from him and simply attack all those of his army that cannot harm my dragons.”

Jon clearly wanted to argue with her, but since she was already on her dragon he merely opened his mouth and sighed, halfgrinning slightly.

“What?” the silver haired woman asked, wondering where that smile suddenly came from.

“Nothing,” Jon answered, shrugging, “Just that you and Arya make a pretty good couple… Same kind of stubbornness…”

Despite the thought of Arya causing a pang of pain go through her heart, Daenerys mirrored the man’s smile as she and Drogon flew up into the sky again.

Going East she stuck to her line of fire again, which she noticed was quickly going out due to the lack of flammable object that now lay in it, and when she saw the men at Oakenshield had already begun to fight the first dead that were able to push through, she immediately went to the back of the troop, burning as many wights and White Walkers as she could without endangering her own people.

It wasn’t easy, fighting these dead men.

She could see it from her vantage point on the dragon: the army at Oakenshield had trouble fighting them at first, because it was so different from fighting a normal human being.

These things were not afraid of death, or being hurt, so they fought without regard for their own safety.

She couldn’t do much to help her men, though. All she could do was burn more, and clear a path for them to join the fight at Castle Black.

After a few hours, aside from the dead that littered the ground – of which she didn’t know whether they had been human or Walker – she could also see that they were closing in on the rest of the army, and instead of simply fighting to the end they were now fully flanking them.

When she saw their progress, she decided that she should go to the Nightfort, see how things were on that side and if she could help them push through to the end of the army.

She got Drogon to go higher and flew with Viserion and Rhaegar in tow as high as she could, in order to stay as far away from the Night King as she could.

Daenerys could tell her children were getting tired, but she also knew that she could not let them rest. Not yet.

“Soon, Drogon… Just a bit more and you can rest…”

She looked down at the dragon’s face, but her gaze was drawn even lower, where she saw flashes of grey and white flanking one man in a grey fur coat. A man ahead of the rest of the army and surrounded by walkers on all sides, fighting with all his might.

The Queen didn’t even think, but immediately made Drogon go down again, and aim his fire ahead of Jon, so he could at least be safe on one side.

She turned around on the dragon’s back, trying to check if he was injured, when she suddenly heard a whizzing sound closing in on her.

Afraid it was the Night King, she quickly swerved Drogon around so hard that – although he was able to fly up into the sky again unscathed – she fell down a few metres on her back.

When she looked back up, she could see it had been false alarm – merely a wight throwing a regular broken spear – but the damage was done already.

She swallowed away her fear and quickly drew her sword, putting it in one of the fires Drogon had made only moments before and feeling a short burst of happiness when the sword stayed aflame.

Firebringer was a bit too heavy for her, but she made do and cut through as many wights as she could, burning them as she did so, all the while trying to move closer to Jon.

“Your Grace!” He said when they finally reached each other. “Are you alright? That was dangerous!”

Daenerys couldn’t believe what he was saying – nor could she believe how much it reminded her of another Stark that had the tendency to do incredibly dangerous things and then berate her for doing one slightly dangerous thing.

“So is fighting a group of wights on your own, Lord Snow!” she said, quickly moving to cut at another wight.

He couldn’t really respond sensibly to that, so Jon shrugged as he slashed his sword through another Walker. “Aye, I suppose that’s fair.”

The silver haired woman looked back for a moment, trying to see if any of their men were closeby, when suddenly-

“Your Grace!!”

She quickly turned around to see a White Walker charging at her, but neither her nor Jon were quick enough to parry.

Before she had time to even let the reality of the situation sink in, Nymeria was suddenly in front of her, sinking her teeth into the Walker’s head and effectively ripping it off.

When the wolf turned around, Daenerys could see dark grey eyes looking at her worriedly.

The woman smiled weakly, and wanted to thank her love, only to see the grey eyes quickly turn fearful and turning into yellow ones again.

She wondered why it was that Arya would leave her so quickly again, but her thoughts were quickly interrupted by another group attacking them.

So she pushed away her thoughts and clenched her jaw, determined to see this through till the end.

* * *

 

Only about a mile away, grey eyes widened in fear as they returned to their own body, and quickly switched to angry when a girl had to parry another wight’s attack with a short sword, to then slit his throat with a shard of dragonglass.

_That was close_ , Arya thought, looking down at the now lifeless body.

She looked up again in the distance, where she could vaguely make out a flaming sword.

_Too close..._


	39. Charge

The sun was well past its highest point, the day more than halfway past, but the fighting still continued without pause.

Had they already killed hundreds, or thousands of dead men, had they already lost hundreds or thousands of good men, Arya did not know.

As she slit another wight’s throat with her makeshift dragonglass dagger, snarling hoarsely as she did so, the young woman could feel the weariness wash over her, as it had the past few…

_Hours?_

_Minutes?_

_Days?_

She did not know. She tried to look at the sun in between attacks, but another wight came too soon for her to be able to focus on anything else but the battle.

Of course, her focusing on the battle from two sides didn’t help her tiredness.

As she pushed her dagger through the next throat, she took a moment to switch over to Nymeria.

The Queen and the wolf were still holding strong, she could tell, the flaming sword luckily powerful enough that Daenerys’ lack of technique barely even mattered now, and Nymeria – although as tired as she was – obviously had no intention of giving up as she tore up another wight.

It took Arya only a second to see if everything was alright, before she went back to her own body, quickly sidestepping a dead man’s broken blade and pushing the dragonglass underneath its chin all the way through its head.

At the beginning of that day, her first kill with the dragonglass dagger she had fashioned herself had made her proud; she had been travelling with the wildlings ever since she left Winterfell, and because she had joined them a bit late – due to obvious circumstances – she had only managed to get her hands on a smaller shard of dragonglass.

It suited her just fine, though, but when she had said as much to the Free Folk around her, they mocked her, and when she then went on to turn the shard into a dagger instead of the spears most of them had turned the dragonglass into, they declared her insane.

Arya had shown them, though: her technique with a regular short blade in her left hand, and the dagger in her right had quickly proven to be successful.

That being said, the battle had not been easy at all. Aside from constantly changing into and Nymeria, trying to keep both herself and Daenerys alive, this was the first time she had been in a battle like this one.

Her usual tactics included stealth: sneaking behind enemy lines to kill the commanding officers, or sneaking through King’s Landing, going through houses, crossing rooftops and cutting people from the shadows.

Those were her fighting grounds.

Here, though, there was no hiding in the shadows. No ducking into a room to take a quick break, no jumping across rooftops to get a better vantage point, no calculating a next tactical move.

No, here Arya could barely see where she was.

She refused to despair, though: she kept going, continuing to fight back.

Deflect with her sword, cut with the dagger.

Sidestep, slash an enemy's throat.

Deflect, cut, sidestep, deflect, slash, pierce, block, duck, slash, push,…

From the early morning till now, without a moment’s rest, without a moment to drink or eat, she persevered.

No matter how tired her arms got, how much her legs felt like giving in, how cold her feet got, she persevered.

Every once in a while she tried to look back, and saw bodies littering the now crimson red snow, blades clashing, dead falling on either side and in the distance the Wall.

She could not judge how much distance was between her and that border that indicated safety, and a place to rest, but frankly, she barely cared.

Instead her gaze was aimed forward, to the Night King in the distance.

He was still hundreds of meters away, seated atop his horse on a rock a few meters above the fighting grounds.

He was alone now, Arya could see. The group of White Walkers that had flanked him earlier was gone now, probably joining the fray as the battle came closer to their position on the rock.

The young assassin wanted to see this as a good sign; the fact that their army was already this close meant that she was finally getting closer to her goal of ending the Night King.

Unfortunately, though, she knew there was another person that was pushing forward in order to face off with him.

In the dimming light she could see the flaming sword clearly, and by now Arya had gotten close enough to get a glimpse of silver hairs and a determined face.

_Damn it, Daenerys…_ she thought, as she watched the Queen push through in a straight line towards the Night King. _This wasn’t the plan… Get on your dragons and get out of here!_

The girl looked up for a moment. After Daenerys had fallen off Drogon earlier when they were nearly hit by a spear, the dragons had flown back a ways and were now drifting high up in the air, far enough to not be hit by the spears.

Arya had, of course, tried to call them to her. She had shouted their names, tried to mimic a wolf’s howl, even tried to howl through Nymeria…

But the three animals couldn’t hear her. The only way to call them was with the horn she had made, which was now hanging on the Queen’s belt.

_Seven fucking hells, Daenerys, why won’t you call them?!?_ she thought miserably, as she slit her dagger through another wight’s throat.

She knew why, though. Of course she knew that her love didn’t want to risk the animals’ life for her own, just like she had not wanted Arya to risk her life for hers.

The young Stark knew, and to a point even understood this… But she would be damned if she let Daenerys risk hers instead.

No matter how much she tried to push through, though, there was always another enemy standing in her way, always a new person blocking her, and every time she looked it seemed as though the silver haired woman went further away from her.

_DAMN IT_ , she thought again as she slashed another dead man, quickly switching into Nymeria to do the same at the Queen’s side, to then come back and slash another one.

_Damn it all!_

She heard a loud shriek above her, and when she looked up she could see the nervous dragons, circling around above them, close to their mother but far away from the icy spears.

“VISERION!” she tried again when the dragon flew overhead, “DROGON! RHAEGAL!!”

The animals clearly didn’t hear her, hell, she barely even heard herself over the constant sound of metal clashing against metal, of human and inhuman shouts alike.

She roughly pushed another dead thing off her blade when a thought struck her.

_Wait, what if…_

She stopped dead in her tracks for a moment and looked up, trying to make contact with Drogon, trying to feel him in his mind as she felt Nymeria.

_Drogon…_ she thought, trying to push herself into his mind. _Drogon!_ She thought again, more forcefully, and she imagined she could feel him, when suddenly, before she could even begin to make a connection, she was forcefully pushed out.

“DROGON YOU DICK!” Arya shouted, feeling as if her mind was on fire all of a sudden. She quickly recovered, though, and focused on the Walker that was now charging at her.

She was just in time to duck his strike, and before he even had the change to raise his icy weapon again she had already stepped in closer, quickly ducking behind him while she cut the back of his knees, effectively bringing him to the ground – and his neck to her level.

As she stabbed him, she quickly did a scan of her surroundings, and when she felt him break she focused above her again.

She looked at the three dragons, thinking quickly. Of course she never should have picked Drogon – they had a good connection, but the animal had always been strongwilled as hell.

So this time Arya tried to find green scales above her, and when she found Rhaegal she tried to clear her mind again to call on him.

_Rhaegal,_ she thought, trying to imagine herself as him, trying to imagine herself flying through the sky, away from the battlefield.

_Rhaegal._

She could hear the battle still going strong around her, but tried to drown the sound out and focus on the winds above her.

_Rhaegal._

She could feel him now, his fear, his anger, she could sense it.

_RHAEGAL!_

Arya opened her eyes, and for a second she could see what he saw, the open skies and the immense battlefield below her. She quickly pushed his gaze at Daenerys and told him to save her, before she was pushed out again, the connection lost.

Back on the ground the girl could see that her trick had had effect when she saw Rhaegal fly down, joined by the two other dragons, but she didn’t have time to rejoice.

From the corner of her eye she could see a sword slashing at her, and she didn’t have time to respond.

_This is it._ She thought. _So much for Bran’s vision._

She closed her eyes for a moment, accepting her fate now that she saw the dragons flying down, covering the enemy in fire once more, but instead of feeling her head being cut clean off she only felt a slight cut at her shoulder.

When she looked up, she saw a familiar red beard, and watched as the owner pushed his dragonglass spear straight through the wight.

The girl sighed in relief as she saw Tormund pull his spear back and turn toward her.

_What do we say to the god of death?_

“You idiot! What the hell were you doing, taking a nap in the middle of a battlefield?” The tall wildling walked over to her, a disbelieving frown on his face. “I’ve never seen anyone do something so fucking stupid, and I’ve seen a lot of stupid South of the Wall.”

Arya half-grinned at his words, glad to see the man again. Instead of answering, though, she quickly shot by him and pushed her dagger into another wight’s throat.

“Are you sure you’re awake?” she asked, falling back into the wildling dialect she had gotten used to over the past few days.

This earned her a laugh from the man, and when the next wave of enemies came along they fought back to back, cutting down wight after wight until they finally had a moment to breathe again.

Tormund turned to her, a large grin on his face.

“That’s the stuff!” he shouted, slapping her on the shoulder.

Arya barely felt the pain, her current adrenaline levels were taking care of that part, but when she flinched slightly she could see the man reel back.

“Shit, sorry, I…” suddenly, he paused as he looked her in the eyes. “Huh… That’s odd.”

He tilted his head as he stared at her face, and although Arya could feel herself reddening, she kept her expression schooled.

“What is?” she asked, her voice as unlike her own as she could possibly make it.

She was wearing a girl’s face, the one she had once worn as a winebearer for both the Freys and Daenerys, the one she was certain no one, not even her Queen knew about.

That being said, she knew her eyes always stayed the same. Which was why she had steered clear of anyone who even remotely knew her, including Tormund.

The man was now frowning. “Nothing, just that I feel like I know you. I mean, I’m sure I’ve never seen yer face before, but it just seems I should know you. Do we know each other?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Arya deadpanned, rolling her eyes as she readied her dagger and sword for the next batch.

As she cut through the first enemy she could hear a laugh behind her, quickly followed by another walker falling to the ground.

“Hahaha!” he said as he joined her side again, already piercing the next one, “Don’t say you don’t care, lass, I know flirting when I see it.”

The girl almost took a shield to the face when she heard him, and looked at him incredulously as he continued, to dumbstruck to come up with a witty reply.

“Sorry to say, though, but my heart belongs to someone else.” He grinned almost dreamily as he practically decapitated another wight. “My blond giant… If she had been here, she would have torn through all these dead men in an instant. Alas,” he sighed before kicking an enemy in the chest, “she had to stay back in Winterfell… Alone…”

Arya grinned. How the man was able to do it, she didn’t know, but fighting with him, joking with him, made her feel better than she had in the past few hours.

Suddenly, though, she felt like she was getting too distracted and focused ahead of her again.

The dragons were still breathing fire close to the queen, and trying to get closer, but it seemed like they weren’t able to land near her just yet.

_Come on, guys…_ Arya thought, almost wishing the animals to pick up Daenerys and fly back to the Wall.

She stepped away from Tormund for a moment, who was too caught up in the fight to notice, and shifted into Nymeria’s skin to try and see if she could help Daenerys and the dragons from the ground.

Instead of appearing next to her love, though, the girl suddenly found herself fighting next to Ghost and a very injured and completely surrounded-

“JON!”

The young Stark quickly came to her senses again and looked around her. There, only a few meters to her right, she could make out her older brother’s black hair in the middle of a group of Walkers.

_So that’s where they went_ , she thought, cursing herself for not thinking more of the Walkers leaving the Night King’s side as she shot into action and pushed herself through the backs of the enemy, cutting away at the circle piece by piece.

She could feel icy blades nearly cutting her, but kept going regardless, cutting and slashing and piercing walker after walker.

When she had finally pushed through enough she could feel her back hitting her brother’s.

He looked back for a second, but when she didn’t respond he merely sighed hoarsely. “Thanks, they suddenly attacked me out of nowhere.”

She answered “No problem, anything for the Lord of Winterfell” in her borrowed voice, and immediately ducked when Jon blocked an ice sword for her, and stepped in to practically climb the owner’s leg before pushing her dagger through its heart.

When she got down again, she could see Jon watching her funnily, but they didn’t have time to talk over even look at one another – the next Walkers attacked without giving them so much as a pause.

This time Jon didn’t need to block, though. Ghost and Nymeria tackled one to the ground, giving Arya the chance to finish it, and immediately after the two wolves and Arya joined Jon against the next one.

Fighting side by side with her brother and the wolves, Arya felt a wave of happiness crash over her.

This was what it meant to have a pack.

When one was attacked, the others helped, when one felt threatened, another was there to cut and bite and kill.

As they moved around one another, circling back to back, it was as if their minds were as one, and the more wights and walkers they killed, the more Arya felt like they could do this.

Like this war could be won.

Unfortunately, though, her happiness and hope didn’t last long.

Her and the wolves had just taken down another wight, when they heard a sharp scream behind them.

As they turned around, they saw Jon, lying on the ground, both his sword and the Walker’s laying a few metres away.

It didn’t look like the Walker had any intention of retrieving his sword though.

It simply picked up a shield from a fallen soldier and towered threateningly over Jon.

“No!” Arya shouted, running to get to him. Before she or the wolves could, though, the Walker had already pushed the shield down onto Jon’s leg, resulting in a sickening crack.

“YOU BASTARD!” the woman saw red as she stabbed at the Walker’s back, again and again and again, until finally she had hit him deep enough to shatter him.

After it was down, the young Stark rushed over to her brother, taking in his leg.

“Damn it…” she muttered, looking at his clearly broken right leg. As by a miracle, though, the Walker hadn’t cut it clean off.

_Must’ve wanted to leave him for the Night King._

She tried to think of what she should do now. Looking around, she could see that he rest of the army had caught up with them now, giving them some time, but she knew she had to act quickly.

“Ar… Arya?”

Her eyes widened as she heard Jon speak. She tried to school her expression again, but when she looked into his questioning, uncertain eyes she knew there was no denying who she was now.

So she sighed and put her fingers to her forehead, pulling away the mask and changing back into her own face.

She gave a faint smile. “How did you know?”

Jon looked both impressed and sad at the same time as he answered.

“I wasn’t sure at first, but when I saw you climb that Walker earlier I had a hunch, and then when you and I and the wolves fought together… Well, it was pretty clear.”

Arya nodded. Of course, if she had noticed it, how could he not have.

“The face-changing is impressive. The Queen had not told us that you had more than one face. I guess… She doesn’t know?”

The former assassin shrugged, taking in Jon’s sad eyes. “Why are you here, Arya? You know this battle will be the end of-“

“Oh, I know.” Arya spoke brusquely, standing up suddenly. “But if I hadn’t been here it would have been yours, and Daenerys’ as well.”

Jon began to nod slightly at the first part, but then he frowned. “Daen- The Queen’s? What do you mean? She never said Bran’s vision-“

“Yeah, well, she didn’t say a lot of things.”

Before Jon could respond to that, Arya was gathering rope and quickly tying his leg to some spears, hoping to stabilize it in some way before she called Ghost over.

“Ar, what are you-?” Her older brother asked, before he was suddenly hoisted up by his sister and helped onto the wolf’s back.

The younger Stark quickly tied a rope around Ghost’s shoulders and attached Jon securely to it.

“Getting you to safety,” she quickly answered, before making a connection with Ghost.

Because both she and the animal weren’t used to it, the connection only lasted for a few moments, but it was long enough for Arya to convey to the animal that he needed to get Jon back to the Wall.

“Arya, wait, I’m not-“

Before he could continue, though, she quickly handed him his sword and gave him a one-armed hug.

“I love you, brother… Tell Sansa and Bran I love them as well. Be safe…”

When she let go, she could see him mouthing “No”, but Ghost didn’t give him a chance to say anything else as he bolted off, straight to the Wall.

Relieved, Arya watched as the white wolf seemed to get through the battlefield alright, but she didn’t have the change to watch them reach the Wall when a loud shriek suddenly caught her attention.

Turning around, she could immediately see the source of the sound: Viserion had almost gotten close to Daenerys, but before she was able to mount him the Night King had thrown another spear, apparently grazing the dragon’s wing.

When the animal quickly took to the sky, a familiar woman with silver hairs and a flaming sword suddenly began to shout.

“YOU COWARD!” Daenerys screamed, and Arya could see her suddenly begin to run toward the Night King. “I AM DAENERYS TARGARYEN, QUEEN OF THE ANDALS AND THE FIRST MEN, MOTHER OF DRAGONS! IT IS ME YOU SHOULD BE FIGHTING.”

Arya hoped the Queen’s taunting would have no effect.

She hoped her love’s attack would quickly be blocked by wights, giving her and Nymeria time to get to her before she did anything stupid.

But when she saw the Night King step down from his horse and jump off the rock onto the battleground, she knew there was no hope for anyone to get in between Daenerys and him.

Ignoring her own tiredness, her wounds, ignoring swords and spears and dead, Arya ran as fast as she could, hoping against hope that it was not too late.

Hoping against hope that she could save the woman she loved.


	40. Finally

The Night King seemed to taunt her endlessly from atop his rock. Ever since she had fallen from Drogon Daenerys had been pushing forward, trying to get closer, her gaze constantly focused on her main enemy.

Her arms were growing tired from swinging the large sword, her entire body was on the verge of collapsing under the incessant barrage of attacks from the wights and Walkers. Despite the cold, she could feel the sweat trickling down her back and from her forehead. Her breath becoming more and more labored each second as she swung the flaming blade around, pushing forward, her eyes barely leaving the Night King.

Yet he just had this eerie smirk on his face, obviously unimpressed by both her and the enormous battle that was raging in front of him.

_Bastard_ , she thought, her face contorting into a grimace as she cut down another wight, annoyed by those icy blue eyes. _You just wait, I’ll get to you soon enough…_

She looked around her for a moment, trying to find Jon, but she quickly noticed that the older Stark was nowhere to be found, and that there were only very few allies close to her.

Daenerys berated herself internally for not paying closer attention as she blocked another attack. She had been too focused ahead of her to notice anything that was going on behind her.

She quickly glanced at Nymeria as the wolf bit through another enemy, glad that the animal was still sticking close to her at least. When she saw the direwolf look back and give a small growl, the Queen hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should turn back.

_I could call the dragons to me…_ She considered grabbing the horn from her belt for a moment, and getting back on the dragons to find and help Jon. She hesitated to summon them, though, for the same reasons she hadn’t called them since her fall: on the one hand, she did not want her children to fly within reach of the Night King’s spear, and on the other hand because she had a plan for when she did finally face off against the Night King – a plan that involved her dragons and the element of surprise.

She tried to gather her thoughts for a moment, uncertain what she should do now – stick to her plan or find Jon… She rubbed her fingers across the horn, feeling the carves made into it and thinking of the person who had made them…

_Arya…_ she thought of the girl she loved with a twinge of pain in her heart. _She would want me to call them. To fly far away from here, to be safe… But if I do, the Night King may never be defeated…_

An axe closely missing her face brought back her certainty, though, and she quickly turned around to face the next horde of wights.

_There’s too many of them_. Immediately as she and Nymeria tried pushing them away she could tell that they had grouped together to attack her specifically.

_Almost as if someone had told them to do so_ … In between strikes she looked at the Night King, and could easily see that his eerie smirk had now turned into a downright sinister grin.

_Damnit!_ Daenerys thought, trying to fight back as well as she could. Despite struggling to even keep her sword up, she kept striking, kept cutting the wights, glad that Nymeria took care of all those she missed.

_It’s no use…_ The Queen was completely out of breath now, stars dancing in front of her eyes as she looked at the Night King again, becoming desperate. _I’ll never make it._

Just as she was about to give up, a shriek broke her from her daze. Looking up, Daenerys saw that Rhaegal had flown down again, the other two in tow.

_But how?_ she wondered when she saw her dragons fly down and immediately set fire to the enemies in front of her. _I didn’t call them here, and until a moment ago they were afraid of the spears..?_

She ignored those thoughts, though, and – encouraged by the children joining the fray – she quickly put her sword up again, cutting through the remaining wights to try and reach them.

When after a while she noticed that the wolf was more often looking back than focusing on the enemy in front of them, Daenerys swiftly understood what was wrong.

“Nymeria!” she called, and the wolf’s head immediately whipped around. “It’s alright, go and find Jon, girl! I’ll come back to you in just a moment. Go and help Jon!”

The animal hesitated for a moment, obviously torn between listening to Arya’s order and listening to Daenerys, but when the Queen repeated her words a second and then a third time, the wolf eventually listened and leapt away, off to help Jon and her brother.

Daenerys watched her run back for only a second longer, before focusing her attention forward again. Her dragons were still lighting the wights and Walkers around them on fire, flying in a circle around her as they did so, clearly still nervous about coming too close to the battle again.

The silver haired woman knew it was only a matter of time now, though, and so she struck down the wights that were able to survive the fire, moving through the flaming bodies with ease.

After a while, she could see that Viserion had finally cleared enough space for him to land, so she quickly moved over to him.

Just as she was about to mount him, though, she heard a whooshing sound, followed by a loud shriek from the dragon.

She could see the icy spear soaring by, grazing Viserion’s shoulder.

As he quickly took to the sky, almost blowing her away by the force of his wings, Daenerys stood still as a rock, immediately making eye contact with the Night King as the dust settled, feeling the anger inside her burn like the fire of a thousand dragons.

The Queen lifted her still flaming sword again, and pointed it at the Night King.

“YOU COWARD!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, seeing red. “I AM DAENERYS TARGARYEN, QUEEN OF THE ANDALS AND THE FIRST MEN, MOTHER OF DRAGONS! IT IS ME YOU SHOULD BE FIGHTING.”

When she was done shouting, she lifted her head high and locked her determined, fiery eyes with the Night King’s terrifyingly icy ones, daring – or rather challenging her enemy to fight.

This time, however, the man did not just laugh at her. He did smirk, but then he got off his horse and jumped off the rock, one large, icy spear in his hand.

Daenerys took a deep breath before she moved forward, trying to keep her emotions under control.

_This is it… My one and only chance,_ she thought as she took steady steps, moving closer and closer to her mortal enemy…

To her final moments.

No more wights stepped in between her this time. They all passed her by, swiftly moving to attack the rest of her men behind her, almost as if they were silently told to let her through.

It was a bit disconcerting, but she ignored the uneasy feeling that crept up on her as she walked by the rest of the undead without being attacked by even a single one.

When she finally got to the back to the troop and stood only metres away from the Night King, her heart was beating so loudly in her chest she was sure he could hear her.

She tried to calm her heartbeat and stare him down, putting all the anger she felt in her gaze, trying to ignore the fear that was bubbling up inside her.

Judging by the amused look on his face, though, her mask was not very successful.

“I guess even the Queen of the Andals,” he suddenly spoke, his voice deep and unpleasantly grating. “and Mother of Dragons… fears death.”

He tilted his head at the last words, almost as if he felt sorry for her.

Hearing his voice though, and seeing the denigrating look on his face, her fear suddenly disappeared and was quickly replaced by more anger.

“I don’t fear death”, she spat out, raising her sword with her two hands again, “but maybe you should.”

After that she immediately charged forward, screaming as she swung her flaming sword at him.

He blocked her easily, but Daenerys didn’t let up. She struck again, and again, delivered blow after blow, putting all her strength behind her sword, dancing around him, trying to find a weak spot, but every single one of her strikes was parried easily with his spear.

_No_ … the woman thought, becoming gradually more nervous, _this cannot be happening…_

She refused to give up, but with each blow it became more and more clear to her that he was only playing with her. She kept going strong, though, hoping that at some point he might grow so careless that she would get an opening, hoping that her chance would come.

And she did: after a while she noticed that he slowed down even more, and took her chance by quickly pushing her sword into the Night King’s stomach.

An unbelieving smile broke out onto her face as she did so.

_I_ can _do this…_ she thought, pushing at the sword, almost giddy with excitement as she attempted to push it through him entirely. _I can k-_

Before she could end her thought, though, a rough blow threw her up into the air and she landed a few metres back, even dragging through the snow for a few more moments before her limp body came to a stop.

Daenerys’ eyesight was blurry as she tried to look up. Dazedly she could see the Night King in the distance, laughing as he pulled her no-longer burning sword out of his body, looking as if he hadn’t even felt it.

“Was that all you can do, Queen of the Andals?” Her head felt too heavy to keep it up, but even with her eyes straining to stare at the sky and her fuzzy head, she could hear the gravelly voice coming closer and she knew that this was it.

This was the moment Bran had seen in his vision.

With trembling hands, she fumbled at her belt, trying to get the horn out quickly so that her dragons could finish him now that he was distracted.

Before she could bring it up to her mouth, though, she felt it suddenly being pulled from her grasp.

“No…” she mumbled as she tried to grab it again, but too hurt to do more than watch as the Night King studied it.

“What’s this? Trying to call in reinforcements, perhaps, my Queen?” He huffed darkly and looked her in the eye as he crushed the horn with one hand. “I’m sorry to say this, but your people won’t make it.”

He stepped even closer to her now, raising his spear above her.

“This is the end for you, Daenerys Targaryen, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Mother of Dragons. Your time as Queen of the Living has ended. But don’t worry,” he added, his eerie smile back in place, “I’m sure you’ll do better as Queen of the Dead, ruling by my si-”

He didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence.

Suddenly, Daenerys could see a flash of grey above her. She could hear a loud growl as the Night King was pushed back a few feet, his icy blade pushed out of his hands.

She strained to turn herself on her side, to see who had saved her.

Her eyesight was still blurry, but she was certain she could see Nymeria, and a person sitting on her back.

She could tell the person was short, and wore a set of bloodied furs.

The person didn’t turn around, but when Daenerys heard a soft and tired voice say “Stay with Daenerys, Nym. Keep her safe” she knew it could only be one person.

“ _Ar-Arya_ ”, she tried to say as she watched the wolf come closer to her, but the person stayed in place.

She could vaguely see the person turn around for a second, and was certain she could see loving grey eyes and a comforting smile. Fear constricted her throat as realization of what was about to happen dawned on her.

“ _No, Arya…_ ”

Her voice was too soft though, or Arya simply ignored her.

She turned away from the clearly hurt woman and the wolf, and focused on her enemy, happy that she had made it in time.

_Barely…_

When she had noticed that Daenerys and the Night King were fighting, Arya let go of any restraints she made have had and simply jumped on Nymeria’s back, pushing through the remaining hordes of wights, cutting down enemy after enemy without regard for herself, only thinking about saving the woman she loved.

Seeing her laying there, on the floor, hurt as badly as she was, Arya felt an anger and fear bubble up inside of her, so strongly she thought she might burst.

And now here she stood, in front of the Night King. The most threatening enemy she had ever faced.

She could feel the power roll off him in waves, and knew right away that she didn’t stand a chance against him. Not physically, at least.

But she had a plan.

An idea that she had been working on as she rushed there. An idea that had solidified when she watched Daenerys grab the horn.

It was broken now, she knew. But it didn’t matter.

She could do this.

Arya took a deep breath as she watched the Night King move in front of her, seemingly untouched by the direwolf’s attack.

She let go of all the fear she had felt, tried to let go of the anger, as she had learned in the House of Black and White, cleared her mind and smiled at her enemy, her eyes emotionless.

“Well…” The Night King spoke, an intrigued look on his face. “Smaller even than the Queen, but less afraid.”

His voice made Arya feel like throwing up, and the closer he moved the more she felt like backing away, but she kept her expression schooled and simply continued to smile.

“Are you her champion, then?” He asked, a creepy amused grin appearing on his face, “She summoned _a girl_ to fight me? Ha! And you even seem to think you _could_ fight me! Make no mistake, girl, that is all you are, _a girl_. At least she was still a Queen,” he said, pointing behind her. “You are _no one_!”

Arya’s smile grew at the words, and her grey eyes grew dark as she spoke. “A girl _was_ no one” she said, calmly, now moving closer to the Night King herself, her footsteps light as she walked. “Now, a girl is Arya Stark of Winterfell.” She could see a vague look of recognition on his face at her last name, but he clearly didn’t care enough to go into it, his expression still unimpressed albeit interested as she dared to move even closer.

When she stood only a few steps away, she looked up at him, her shoulders relaxed but her weapons ready behind her back.

“A girl has had many names, though, and has taken many names. And you, Night King, are the last one on a girl’s list.”

Without giving him a chance to respond Arya moved on him, swinging her sword.

But although the Night King’s spear laid somewhere in the snows next to them, he still blocked her attacks easily enough by simply pushing the blade away.

The young Stark didn’t let up, though. She sidestepped his strikes as he parried and tried again, striking with her sword and attempting to stab her with the dagger.

Every single attempt failed, but Arya knew she could have a chance. After all, she had a plan. All she had to do was wait for the right moment, and then execute it.

When after a while she saw that the Night King was finally getting enough of her – to him – weak attempts, she knew the time had come.

Putting the dagger in her belt again, she grabbed her sword with both hands and went for a large swing, aiming for his head.

It had no effect though. The Night King easily grabbed her sword.

“Disappointing, as expected,” he said, quickly turning the sword into ice and shattering it.

Arya could feel the effect of it move all the way up her arm, but she barely even had time to register the pain before she could suddenly see the back of his hand coming at her.

She put her arm up to block it, but the blow was too strong, and lifted her up into the air, causing her to land a few metres away from him.

“No!”

Daenerys screamed as she saw Arya get thrown back. She wanted to go to her, but could barely move.

“Nymeria, go help her! We have to do something!”

She could tell the wolf wanted nothing more than to go help her old friend, but this time she didn’t move. She had clear, important instructions to protect the other woman, and she was clearly set on doing so.

The Queen was feeling desperate, a feeling that only grew when she saw that the Night King began to move toward her lover, and that the girl was still on her knees on the ground, bending forward, her head down.

_What’s going on?!_ She thought, trying to stand up only to immediately feel dizzy and fall down again.

“Arya, what are you doing?” Her voice was weak, but it grew stronger the closer the Walker came to the younger woman. “Arya! Arya, get up!” It was almost as if the girl couldn’t hear her.

Daenerys looked at Nymeria, but when she saw that the eyes had their normal dark golden colour she knew that wasn’t the reason.

_But then what?_

“Arya!”, she tried again, even louder. “ARYA! ARYA STARK, GET UP!”

The Night King was only steps away when suddenly Arya’s head whipped up.

When she saw how close he had gotten she quickly got to her feet, making a break for it as she tumbled right out of his reach.

She slid a few metres further, until she reached her goal.

When she stood up again, she had the now smoldering Firebringer in her hands, and a wild grin on her face.

 Her enemy looked more annoyed than intrigued now. “Stupid girl, do you really think a sword that is much too large for you will hel-“

She didn’t give him the chance to finish his thoughts, though and quickly moved forward.

The two-handed fighting style she needed to use with this sword was not something he was used to, and she could immediately tell that she wouldn’t last long against him with it.

Luckily, though, she didn’t need to.

She struck at him widely, which he easily blocked. When his cold hands tried to grab her she sidestepped swiftly, ducking underneath him and moving to his side.

As he turned around, she brought the sword up for a full frontal attack, and when he brought his hand up to grab the sword as he had before, she knew the time was right.

Arya quickly put her arms up, keeping the sword in her left hand as she moved it behind her.

The Night King looked surprised, but didn’t waver as he used his outstretched hand to try and grab the girl’s face.

She was unprotected now, and could feel his sharp nail cut down from her forehead, barely missing her right eye, down to her cheek, but she ignored the pain.

Instead, she ducked down completely, moving underneath his arm toward his leg, and before he had time to react she lifted the sword and plunged it down as hard as she could into his foot, putting all her strength and her weight behind the blow.

When she was done, she was glad to see that the still warm sword was at least halfway lodged into the frozen soil, and without pause she quickly pulled the dragonglass dagger from her belt and stabbed him in the chest.

She knew the dagger had little to no effect, though, when she suddenly felt him grab her by the throat, lifting her up.

“You’re a fool, little girl.” He said, as her head fell in his grasp. He pulled out the dagger with ease, watching it curiously. “Did you really think _this_ could work? This dagger, this piece of dragonglass is as small and meaningless as you are.”

He tilted his head, slightly loosening his grip as he spoke again.

“This is the end for you, girl. Any last words?”

The Night King felt a change in the girl as she moved her head up, smiling again. “I do, actually. They’re not my words, really… but they seem appropriate in this occasion.”

Arya swallowed drily and looked down again, before focusing on the leader of the Undead one last time. “Perhaps you’ve heard the phrase before: the Night is dark and full of terrors,” she paused again, her eyes all of the sudden colourless before the dark grey came back to them, along with a wolfish grin, “but the fire burns them all away.”

He frowned at the words, but when her eyes turned colourless again he suddenly understood.

When he heard the green-and-bronze-scaled dragon growl behind him he quickly tossed the girl away, and tried to move toward his spear.

But the sword that was still lodged in his foot prevented him from doing so.

From inside Rhaegal, Arya could see the scene: the Night King attempting but failing to run, her own body lifeless on the ground, and Daenerys at least 50 meters away.

She pushed the dragon onward. It hadn’t been easy, connecting with Rhaegal, although less difficult than it had been earlier, was not an easy feat.

Especially now that he realized what she wanted to do, he was becoming more and more reluctant.

But when Arya made the dragon look at Daenerys, and made him feel the love she was feeling for her, made him feel how this was what he needed to do to save her, he relented.

The young woman smiled internally as the dragon got close enough.

_Thank you, my friend._

She took a deep breath, and began the final part of her plan.

_DRACARYS._

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”

Daenerys watched as Rhaegal flew up to them. She didn’t know how she had done it, but somehow Arya must have warged into him.

She tried to stand up, and leaned onto Nymeria as she was finally able to do so, but it was too late.

Rhaegal was breathing fire.

Daenerys knew it would reach their enemy first, but she didn’t care. Her eyes were focused on the limp body, which was a few metres away, but not far enough to not be touched by the flames.

The lifeless body of the woman she loved.

She tried to run towards it, ignoring any kind of danger doing so might entail.

When she saw the body move again, she knew that Arya was back.

“Arya!” she shouted, trying to get closer as the flames began washing over the Night King. “ARYA!!”

She was still running for her, but the girl made no motion to move away. She simply turned her head toward her.

When the Night King was completely destroyed by the dragon’s fire, causing such an enormous magical shockwave that she was knocked back by the sheer force of it, the last thing Daenerys saw before passing out was Arya with a gentle smile on her face and teary grey eyes, mouthing three little words at her.

_“I love you._ ”


	41. Fire to Ashes

She felt like she was floating in a pitch black ocean.

There was nothing around her but darkness.

She could see nothing.

Hear nothing.

Smell nothing.

Feel nothing.

All she could sense was an emptiness inside of her, and a wariness she couldn’t quite place.

She didn’t know where she was, or how long she had been there, but in all honesty she couldn’t bring herself to care.

After what could have been hours, or days, a vague sound made it through her dazed state. A voice.

_“Your Grace…”_

It was soft, though, and although Daenerys felt like she should recognize the words, they meant nothing to her.

_“Your Grace…”_

The voice was there again, and the Queen felt a hint of feeling come back to her.

An ache in her head, a throbbing in her side.

_“Your Grace!”_

But the darkness remained, wrapped around her like a blanket.

She couldn’t quite remember why, but her subconscious somehow felt that this was the better place for her to be in.

That she might be happier here..

_“Daenerys!!”_

At the mention of her name, she suddenly bolted upright, pushing through the darkness and back into reality.

“Arya! Ah!...”

Daenerys blinked against the bright light that was around her now, and put her hand to her aching head.

“Easy, Your Grace…”

The deep voice came from her left. When she looked, still squinting her eyes, she was met with dark grey eyes that belonged to a visibly relieved Jon Snow.

“Thank the Gods you’re alright.” He spoke, half-smiling as he helped her sit up a bit more comfortably. “You’ve been out for so long, I wasn’t sure if…”

He shook his head and swallowed quickly before gently smiling at her again. “It doesn’t matter now, I’m just glad to see you’re alright.”

The Queen nodded, but her mind was still too busy catching up to reality that she didn’t manage to smile back. She did notice he looked rough, still wearing his bloodied armour, and that he was sitting down next to her with his right leg entirely splinted.

“The battle,” she asked, straining to keep focused despite her headache.

As she took in her surroundings, she saw that she had been moved back a bit, now leaning against a tilted rock only a few hundred metres from the Wall.

The ground was littered with bodies, or parts of bodies at least, all the way from where she sat up to the Wall. She could see some men carrying stretchers around, trying to find all and any living they could.

A sigh brought her attention back to her companion again.

“Over.. Finally.” A wry smile crossed his face as he continued. “When the Night King was burned by your dragon’s flames, a shockwave washed over the battlefield. Every single White Walker and wight was killed instantly. So… we won.”

Despite his smile, she could see the sadness in his eyes, and her brain finally caught up with why that might be.

“ _Arya_ …” Daenerys said, her voice so soft it was a wonder he even heard her.

The somber look on his face indicated he did, though. He looked down as he shook his head.

“We… We haven’t found her, Your Grace.”

The silver haired woman’s mind was suddenly clear again and she moved, trying to stand up.

“Then you haven’t been looking hard enough, Jon.” She struggled to get to her feet, but a bout of dizziness washed over her the moment she stood up.

Jon stood up as quickly as he could with his makeshift crutch and caught her before she fell, steadying her.

“Your Grace, please.”

She knew she should not have said that; it was not just _her_ love, but also _his_ sister they were talking about, and the sorrow in his eyes told her how much pain he was in right now.

She refused to feel the same pain, though.

“Arya is alive, Jon. She must be.” Daenerys spoke before letting go of the oldest Stark and moving around the rock she had been laying on.

“Your Grace,”, the man said, following right behind her, trying to keep up despite his leg, “I understand you don’t want it to be true, neither do I, but you have to-“

“What, I have to give up? I’m sorry, Jon, but I can’t!” She moved forward, getting steadier with each step she took, her determined violet eyes already trying to figure out where the final fight with the Night King had been. “Arya is alive, and I’ll be damned if I-“

She couldn’t finish her sentence, though. When she finally rounded the corner, she saw what must’ve been the cause of Jon’s certainty.

In the distance, right where the Night King had been earlier, a fire was still burning even now, covering a distance of at least 20 meters, the bright blue flames causing a dark smoke to fill the air above it.

_No…_

Her determined look suddenly turned to a look of defeat as she took in the scene in front of her.

The sea of dead.

The unnaturally blue fire.

The packs of smoke rising up into the air.

A barking Nymeria, held back byTormund, Davos and a few other men as she tried to pull from their grasp in the direction of the fire.

“ _No…”_

She said it out loud, that time, her voice cracking. Suddenly, her legs couldn’t hold her anymore, and she fell to her knees, her hands moving up to cover her mouth as the tears began to fall.

A harsh swallow came from above her.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Daenerys.” His voice cracked as well, which only made her own heart ache even more.

She shook her head, trying to shake off the feeling of sickness that seemed to have gripped her.

“No! She- She can’t be gone! She can’t be-!”

The Queen couldn’t even finish the sentence, her tears falling freely now on the bloodied snow beneath her.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, like her throat was constricting and her heart was breaking all at the same time.

Daenerys wanted to give up, to lay down right there, right then, to find the darkness again, that empty darkness where she would never have to feel again.

Before she could, however, a warmth at her face suddenly stopped her.

Nymeria had rushed over to her the moment she heard her crying, and was now licking away the tears.

The woman looked up and grabbed the wolf’s head. When she saw the eyes were their own natural yellow she shook her head again, closing her teary eyes as she hugged the animal close.

As she cried, she heard Nymeria whine next to her. A whine that quickly turned into a sorrowful howl.

Daenerys hugged her even tighter when she heard it. “She can’t be gone… Arya can’t be gone, right, girl?”

She had muttered the words in the animal’s fur, foolishly wanting the wolf to respond.

Instead, though, the queen heard shrieks behind her.

When she looked up she found that Viserion and Rhaegal had landed right next to them.

“They must’ve realized you woke up,” Davos said. He and Tormund were standing with Jon now, a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder. “They did well in battle. All three of them did, although I don’t know where the third is now… If we hadn’t had them, we wouldn’t have won.”

Daenerys looked up at her two children, bleary-eyed. She wondered for a moment where Drogon was, but disregarded the thought as she answered Davos.

“They didn’t…” she said, although she barely noticed she was speaking, her head too filled with painful numbness, “Nymeria called them. It’s something Arya…”

She gave a shuddering sigh as she spoke the woman’s name, a sudden pain in her heart as she did so.

Immediately, she was on the verge of crying again, but a whine from the animal she was still holding onto stopped her.

Looking up, she saw that the wolf was looking at her, her golden eyes conveying what she couldn’t tell her.

Daenerys paused for a moment, gently stroking Nymeria’s fur as she did so, before finally nodding.

“Alright, girl.” she said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Alright.”

She got up, ignored the dizziness this time and instead walked over to her dragons with purpose, her earlier determination back in full force.

“Your Grace, what are you doing?” Jon spoke, quickly hobbling behind her.

“Nymeria thinks she’s still out there, Jon. I have to find her.” The Queen didn’t look back as she responded, but simply pushed forward.

A disbelieving sound came from behind her. “Nymeria-!? Your Grace, she’s a wolf, how could she have…” She could almost hear him shake his head behind her. “Never mind that, you’re hurt! You should rest, Your Grace. Please, come back to Castle Black…”

She ignored him and made her way over to Viserion. Before she was able to mount him, though, Jon suddenly blocked her path.

“Get out of my way, Lord Snow.”

His jaw was clenched, and she could see his grey eyes – which reminded her so much of his sister’s – were filled with sadness.

“Your Grace, please…” he put his hand on her shoulder, looking down. “In the hours you’ve been out we have looked everywhere. I...” he looked back at Tormund before continuing, “I even tried to run into the fire. My cloak caught on fire before I could even get close enough, Tormund had to pull it off me… “

He shook his head before he continued. “There is no way Arya could have survived those flames, Daenerys. We _have_ to accept that.”

Daenerys put her hand over his and swallowed away the lump that was forming in her throat.

“I’m sorry, Jon… I didn’t mean to make you go through this pain a second time.” She shook her head as she locked eyes with him, her determined violet ones trying to counter the sorrowful grey ones. “But I have to do this. If only to see for myself…” she nodded to herself as she looked down. “To have closure.”

He frowned at her words and looked like he was about to respond, but the woman quickly continued.

“Please, Jon, let me try and look for her. It’ll be the last time. If I can’t find her…” she sighed shakily “Then I…. Then I will accept she is gone.”

Her face grew determined again as she looked him in the eyes. “Let me do this.”

Jon opened his mouth to speak, but after a few moments he closed it again and simply nodded, letting her go.

“Thank you.” Daenerys gave a soft smile before mounting Viserion, and immediately made him take to the sky.

As she flew above the battlefield, the usual feeling of happiness she had while flying was replaced by a fear that gripped her.

She looked around at the giant amount of dead bodies below her.

_What if I can’t find her…_

_What if I can, but she’s…_

_What if she’s gone?_

The silver haired woman tried to push away those thoughts, and instead moved forward to where she had last seen Arya.

The fire was still burning strong. She could feel the heat as she got closer.

It didn’t stop her though.

_Fire cannot burn a dragon._

Her mind crept back to a time when she had to tell Arya that after Melisandre had tried to burn her.

A time when Arya had, unwillingly, admitted her feelings to her…

Again, Daenerys tried to push away those thoughts before the melancholy could wash over her completely, and she pushed Viserion even closer to the fire.

The smoke was more problematic. Besides making its way into her lungs it also clouded her vision, to a point where she could not even see the ground anymore.

She refused to give up, though, and gave her dragon the signal to stay in one place, his wings moving harder and faster so they could blow away the smoke.

Rhaegal soon joined in next to her, and before long both the fire and the smoke were lessened greatly, to a point where Daenerys could finally see again.

She looked down, trying to pinpoint exactly where the Night King – _and Arya_ – had been earlier.

Instead, though, her gaze suddenly fell on a familiar set of black scales.

“Drogon?”

The animal shrieked below her, and Daenerys frowned at the sight. She had wondered why he hadn’t been there when Nymeria called them.

_Is he hurt?_

“DROGON!” she called, hoping that the dragon would respond.

He shrieked again, louder this time, but remained on the ground, apparently refusing to move his wings.

_He must be hurt…_ the woman thought, baffled by the actions of the animal. _Or…_

A sudden thought hit her, and she quickly pushed Viserion to go down, trying to use the animal’s wings to put out all of the flames this time.

_Please let it be true…_ she thought as she hurried to put out the flames, trying to keep the emotions at bay even though her heart was beating faster and faster with each passing second.

When the fire was finally put out, Daenerys brought Viserion to land in front of Drogon and immediately jumped from his back.

She ran toward her dragon, stumbling over still smoldering bits that littered the ground but not caring how many times she almost fell.

When she finally reached him, she slowed down and looked up, her heart beating loudly in her chest.

Drogon looked at her as she came closer, not moving a muscle until she finally came close enough to touch him.

When she did, he shrieked softly and slowly opened up his wings to reveal a lifeless body amidst untouched snow.

Daenerys gasped and stopped for a moment, before taking a shuddering breath and hurrying forward.

“Arya!!”

She rushed over to her, falling to her knees when she reached the girl’s side.

“Arya…” she said, softly, placing her shaking hand on the girl’s face.

The young Stark looked horrible. She had a wound across her cheek that had caused her entire face to be covered in blood. Daenerys could see bruises around the girl’s neck where the Night King had held her earlier, and countless more cuts in her clothes that indicated even more wounds.

“Arya, please…” the Queen said again, cupping the younger woman’s head gently with both hands now.

“Please, Arya… Wake up.” Daenerys felt tears begin to run down her face again when the girl still would not respond.

She brushed away the stray hairs from her face, her hand still shaking violently as she did so.

When she could still hear nothing but silence, the silver haired woman looked down, letting the tears fall freely.

“ _No…”_

She looked at her face again, the face of the woman she loved, trying to get her to open her eyes.

What she wouldn’t give to see those grey eyes again, just one last time…

“ _Arya, please… I love you…”_

Daenerys couldn’t take it anymore, she felt like her heart was about to burst. She bent down gently, pressing her warm lips against Arya’s cold ones.

She held her close like that for a few seconds, before finally letting go and moving back again.

The feeling of a cold hand on hers suddenly surprised her.

“ _Why did you stop?”_

The voice was soft, and scratchy, but Daenerys would recognize it anywhere.

When she opened her teary eyes, she could see that tired grey ones were looking back at her.

The older woman bit her lip, new tears welling up as her heart overflew with emotion.

“ _You’re alive…_ ” the Queen whispered, letting her gaze roam across the girl’s face, across the wolfish smile that grew on her lips, the slight dimples in her bloodied cheeks, the grey eyes that looked both tired and amused.

_“I’m alive,_ ” Arya whispered back, her own hand moving up to cup the older woman’s face.

Daenerys sobbed when she heard the words and suddenly threw her arms around Arya, hugging her close.

“You’re alive, Arya! Thank the Gods, you’re alive!” She hugged her close, ignoring the blood and dirt and soot on the furs the girl was wearing, and instead focusing on the familiar smell of her little wolf.

The younger woman hugged back just as tightly, ignoring the pain her wounds were causing her and instead focusing on the warmth of the woman above her.

They stayed like that, reveling in each other, for a few more moments, when suddenly they were joined by an obviously overjoyed Nymeria.

The wolf had clearly ran her heart out the moment the fire went out, because the two women could hear her panting loudly as she sidestepped Daenerys and immediately began to lick Arya’s face.

The lovers laughed as the animal did so, the Queen taking a moment to sit up as Arya now began to hug her oldest friend.

“It’s good to see you again, Nym,” the girl said smiling, wrapping her arms around the large wolf’s neck. “I’m glad you’re okay, too…”

Nymeria gave a few short barks as she spoke, which were soon responded to by some more barks a few meters away.

When Daenerys and Arya looked up they saw that Ghost wasn’t too far off, joined by Jon, Davos and Tormund on horseback.

“Arya!” Jon shouted as he got closer, his voice full of emotion.

The moment he got close enough to Drogon he jumped off his horse, ignoring the pain in his leg as he hobbled over to the two women.

“Arya!”, he said again, dropping himself to the floor as he joined his sister on the ground, immediately hugging her tightly.

“I can’t believe it,” Arya heard him say as she hugged him back just as tight, happy to see him again as well. “You’re alive, little sister…”

She grinned when she heard him. “So I’ve been told,” she said raspily, amusement shining in her tired grey eyes.

He blinked at her when he heard the joke, and shook his head, although a small smile did break across his face.

“But how, Arya?” Daenerys had given the two siblings some space to reunite, but that was a question she really needed to know the answer to. “How did you do it? You... You warged into Rhaegal earlier,” she bit back the memory of seeing her lover about to be engulfed in flames and continued hastily, “did you perhaps do the same with Drogon?”

Arya huffed, trying to sit up straighter as she looked at the large animal that was still looming over them. “Drogon? No, I tried warging into him, but that _dick_ wouldn’t listen to me…”

She frowned at him, but a warm hand on her shoulder quickly brought her attention back to the Queen.

“But how then, Arya? When I found you, this entire place was aflame. Drogon wrapping his wings around you was the only reason you didn’t burn to death. Do you mean to tell me-“

“He must’ve done that... on his own…” Realisation dawned on the younger woman, and she looked up at the dragon with new eyes.

Arya struggled to get up, ignoring the protests of her brother and Daenerys, and although it was difficult to keep herself standing up, she moved closer toward the dragon’s head.

When she carefully stretched her hand out to the animal, she was reminded of the first time she had met him.

It felt like that moment had happened years ago; him growling at her, her fear of having her arm bitten off… Touching him for the very first time…

He didn’t growl now, though. Not even when she touched him.

“Is that true, Drogon. Were you… Did you save me?” She put both her hands on his head and closed her eyes, trying to connect with him at least this once.

Her eyes filled with tears when she felt rather than saw his need to save her.

Arya put her head against his, smiling softly against the cool scales.

“Thank you, my friend…”

After that she blacked out, and the last thing she felt were warm arms catching her before she could hit the ground.

* * *

 

When Arya came to again, the arms were replaced by a warm bed in a fire lit room.

She opened her eyes slowly, trying to understand where she was.

The room was darker than her room in Winterfell. The walls were almost black, and the only light she could see was that of the fireplace and the candles on the side of the bed.

She felt like she had been there before, but at the same time she was certain she had never been there in her life.

It was only when a familiar silver haired woman came into sight that she realized where she was.

“ _This is your room in Castle Black.”_

Her voice was soft, and it cracked as if it hadn’t been used in weeks, but her words were clearly loud enough to get the attention of the other woman in the room.

Daenerys rushed to her side, a loving smile on her face as she sat down on the chair next to the bed, taking Arya’s hand in hers and placing her other hand on the younger woman’s face, wiping away some stray hairs.

“You’re awake,” the Queen said, gently stroking the girl’s cheeks. “Welcome back, my little wolf.”

Arya smiled at the nickname, sighing happily as she let her love caress her face.

“How long have I been asleep?” She asked, trying her best to wake up some more, although the gentle touches made it hard for her not to fall asleep again.

“Little over three days,” Daenerys said, smiling at how hard the younger woman was obviously trying to stay awake. “You’re not the only one, though. All the men, even those who weren’t severely injured, have slept for the biggest part of the first day, if not the second as well. Missandei was worried sick when Grey Worm didn’t wake up even the second day.”

Arya frowned, suddenly feeling guilty for not thinking about her friends sooner. “How is he… How are they both?”

The Queen smiled, trying to smooth out the frown with her fingers, although she stayed clear of the wound on her right side. “They’re alright, my love. Grey Worm has a broken arm and several cuts and bruises, but nothing life-threatening. And Missandei…” she sighed, an amused look shining through her violet eyes, “Well, she was as upset with me joining the battle on the ground as she was with you sneaking onto the battlefield, even though you knew that could kill you.”

Daenerys sighed, her hand pausing its ministrations for a moment. “As was I, Arya. You were not supposed to be there.”

Arya rolled her eyes, putting her hand over the older woman’s on her face. “If I wasn’t supposed to be there, Daenerys, then neither were you.”

The Queen frowned and opened her mouth to respond, but before she could Arya continued.

“Bran told me, Daenerys… He told me about the vision, the _true_ vision.” She shook her head, her grey eyes full of emotion as she looked into closed-off violet ones. “If I hadn’t been there, Daenerys, you would have died. And you knew that.”

She looked down, trying to keep her feelings at bay. “You riding into battle was just as dangerous as me riding into battle... And although I understand, or at least I try to understand why you did what you did, why you _lied_ to me… I really wish you hadn’t done so…”

The Queen’s face flashed with guilt for a moment, before she looked at her love with sadness in her eyes again. “And I wish you hadn’t done so, either…” She swallowed, feeling the tears well up again but trying to push them down.

“I just didn’t want you to get hurt, Arya, or worse… I just…” a stray tear fell from her eyes as she continued, “I didn’t want to imagine a world without you in it…”

She looked down now, as the tears silently streamed down her face, only to look up when a bandaged hand cupped her cheek softly.

 When she opened her eyes again, she saw the same tearful expression she was wearing mirrored on her lover’s face.

Arya’s voice cracked when she spoke. “You should have realized, my Queen, that a world without you would not have been a world I’d want to live in… I could never live without you… Not anymore…”

Her grey eyes shone with love as she pulled the older woman closer.

“I love you, Daenerys Targaryen… “

She brought their lips together in a gentle kiss, which Daenerys happily responded to.

The older woman got even closer, cupping Arya’s face with both hands gently as they kissed. Arya’s left hand came up to rest in those silver hairs, whereas her other hand moved down to the woman’s waist, trying to pull her even closer.

Daenerys’s body was almost entirely positioned on the bed when she broke the kiss for a moment.

“Are you sure you want this, Arya?” she asked out of breath, although her hands stayed in place and her face stayed close enough to the other woman’s that she thought she could drown in those dark grey eyes.

A smile broke across the Queen’s face as she continued. “Because last time you were in bed with me, I seem to remember someone freaking out…”

Arya rolled her eyes at the memory, although she grinned right back at the Queen, pulling her down towards her again.

“Just shut up and fucking kiss me, Daenerys.”

Daenerys smiled as she crawled into the bed completely, pausing for a moment as she carefully placed her body over her lover’s.

“I love you, Arya Stark…” she said, before capturing the younger woman's lips in another searing kiss.


	42. Their Return

The sun was beginning to set, brightly coloring the snow for a few more minutes before letting the icy landscape fall into darkness again.

Sansa stood atop the Northern wall of Winterfell, watching out across the snow-covered forest and hills. The air around her was becoming increasingly chilly, but she barely even felt it.

She had been holding that position for a while now, as she had done the past few days, waiting for the next group of fighters to return from the Wall.

For the last two weeks men had arrived back at Winterfell, rested for a day or two and then hit the road again to finally go home.

The first ones had been the Queen’s Dothraki; the Southern men and their horses were not suited for the Northern weather, so Queen Daenerys had ordered them to go back to King’s Landing as soon as they were able to.

They had been a rowdy bunch when they arrived back at Winterfell, and had almost put Sansa in a panic when she had to feed them and their horses for the night. But the Dothraki were loyal to the Queen, and especially to their animals, so after they got enough food for the road they were gone the next day, hurrying on to warmer weather.

All in all, Sansa much preferred the wild Dothraki over the groups of lords that poured in the days after.

The Northern lords, and even some of the Southern ones had been alright; they were tired, but polite; hungry, hurt and cold, but honorable.

And then there were others: complaining about the snow, about the cold, about the lack of descent food – despite Sansa explaining to them that most of their food reserves had gone to the soldiers when they had left for battle.

But the oldest Stark daughter had persevered. She had made a point to treat them all with the respect they deserved after fighting in the battle against the White Walkers. She had helped them as best as she could and had only slightly yet politely pushed when she thought it was time for them to leave.

By now, hundreds of men and women had passed Winterfell’s gates, and Sansa had been happy to see them return from war, and equally happy to send them back on their way home.

The one group she was most anxious to see, however, the group whose return she had been anticipating for days now, still had not come back.

She looked across the road North again, straining to see in the fading light.

When it became too dark to see outside the castle Walls she sighed dejectedly and moved to go back inside.

As she reached the stairs, though, she heard a faint sound from beyond the wall that brought a smile to her face.

She quickly grabbed a torch and rushed down, her smile growing when she reached the courtyard and saw Bran sitting there with Meera right behind him.

When she came side to side with the two, her younger brother looked up and threw her a knowing look.

“Did you see them too?” he asked, smiling as Sansa came to stand next to him, her eyes fixed on the gate in front of them as well.

The older Stark shook her head. “No, it became too dark for me to see anything. But as I turned around I was sure I heard a howl, followed by a loud shriek.”

Bran nodded at that and grinned. “Ah, I suppose my abilities aren’t much needed when you have a wolf and dragons.”

Sansa chuckled at the remark and lovingly put her hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Oh hush, Bran, you know I was only looking for them because you told me it would be any day now.”

The young man put his hand on hers in response and looked forward again. “Indeed… And it would seem today is that day.”

His sister looked at him for a few more seconds, but when the horns sounded her head whipped to the gate again, her eyes filled with anticipation.

More people came outside the castle at the sound of the horns, more than had been there for the last few groups, which meant that word had gotten quickly spread around about both her and Bran being out in the courtyard.

She could see the excitement on all their faces and tried to keep hers as composed as possible.

When the first men entered through the gate, a group of Northerners and Wildlings combined, everyone in Winterfell began to cheer.

Sansa saw Tormund walk in, and she could see his face light up when he saw Brienne among the crowd, cheering as loudly as the rest of them, but she barely even noticed him anymore when she saw the people that came in after him.

Gone was her composure when Jon came in sight, as she ran to greet him.

He had barely gotten off his horse when she engulfed him in a bone-crushing hug.

“Easy, San, easy.” She heard him say, and quickly let go when she noticed the large splint on his leg.

“Seven Hells, I’m sorry, Jon.” Sansa was beginning to feel bad about pushing him, but when she finally looked up and saw the large grin on his face she couldn’t help but smile back.

He looked better. Hurt, obviously, and tired from the long journey, but better. As if he didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders anymore. Sansa couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him this relaxed, and it immediately made her feel more at ease as well.

A voice interrupted her thoughts.

“It’s good to have you home, Jon,” Bran and Meera had joined them and the younger man gave a wolfish grin at his older brother, “if you’d like to borrow my wheelchair for a few days, I’d be happy to lend it to you.”

Jon let out a loud laugh, surprised as well as amused by his brother’s words.

“It’s good to see you too, little brother..” He said hoarsely, before awkwardly bending one leg to hug him.

Sansa watched the two of them happily, when she suddenly heard a voice from right next to her.

“You should have seen him trying to get in his tent the past couple of days.” Looking to her left, she saw brown messy hair, amused grey eyes and a wolfish grin. “I swear, it was-“

Arya didn’t even have time to finish her sentence; when Sansa finally noticed that she had snuck up on her she immediately turned around to hug her younger sister.

“ _You’re back_ ,” she whispered tearfully, her voice muffled by the furs the girl was wearing, _“you came back_ ”.

The former assassin was surprised at the sudden burst of emotion, but hugged her back just as hard.

“ _Yeah… I came back… I’m home, San…”_

When they let go after a few moments, Sansa kept her hands on the younger girl’s shoulders, looking her over to see if she was as hurt as Jon.

The first thing she noticed was the bluish scar across her cheek and forehead, but before she could try and touch it Arya stopped her hand and gently pulled it down.

“Don’t worry, San. It’s just a scratch. Jon’s much worse off, trust me…”

Sansa frowned, looking at her incredulously. “If it’s ‘just a scratch’, Ar, then why is it blue?”

Arya looked to her right, a blush creeping on her face as she began mumbling.

The older Start sister raised her eyebrows at that. “What was that, Arya?”

A voice behind them answered in her stead, though.

“Because it was the Night King who did that.”

Daenerys was standing a few metres away from them with Missandei, an amused smile on both their faces.

Sansa looked at the Queen and then back to her sister, her eyebrows raised even higher.

“The Night King, Ar?”

She turned to talk to an empty space, though, as her sister had already slipped from her grasp and had now moved over to Bran, Meera and Jon.

Sansa’s annoyance faded as she watched her youngest siblings hug each other tight, and was replaced by happiness again.

She heard footsteps and turned around to see Queen Daenerys at her side now, watching with a similar look on her face.

“It’s good to see them so happy again,” the silver-haired woman spoke, a large smile on her face, “they’re finally home.”

“Yes…” Sansa said, smiling back at the Queen. “Alive and well.”

Daenerys’ smile fell at the words and a guilty look washed over her.

“Sansa, about Arya, I am so-“

The older Stark sister didn’t give her a chance to finish though and quickly shook her head.

“Don’t worry about it, Your Grace, it wasn’t your fault. Arya would do anything to save someone she loves, whether it be her family, her friends, or her lover.”

A blush crept onto the Queen’s face, but Sansa simply ignored it and continued.

“I’m glad she’s home safe, though. I’m glad you’re _both_ safe.”

She opened her arms and enveloped Daenerys in a warm hug.

“Welcome home, Daenerys…”

The Queen felt a bit awkward hugging the older Stark sister, but when she saw an excited Arya smiling in front of her she quickly melted into the hug, feeling more at home than she had in years.

* * *

 

The air was thick around her, but Arya didn’t mind it. Unlike when she was a child, the Weirwood didn’t scare her anymore, but had a more calming effect.

She reveled in the silence, the only sound to be heard the scraping of the whetstone against her blade.

“You know you can sit with me if you wish” – and, of course, the footsteps she had noticed sneaking closer.

When she heard a sigh and now louder footsteps joining her she finally looked up, smiling at her lover.

“When did you hear me?” Daenerys said, a look of both annoyance and amusement on her face.

Arya grinned, putting away her sword and supplies as the woman said down next to her.

“Somewhere around the point where you were trying to mask your footsteps by walking on those stones over there.”

The older woman looked at where Arya was pointing and gasped. “But that was over 20 minutes ago! Why didn’t you say something?!”

The former assassin simply shrugged, chuckling at her lover’s shock.

“What, I thought it was cute. And the blush you’re wearing now looks even cuter..”

Before the flabbergasted Queen could respond to her words, she quickly followed up her remarks by pulling the woman in for a kiss.

It seemed like Daenerys wanted to say something regardless, but after a few minutes of intense kissing, combined with Arya’s gentle fingers caressing the side of her face, her annoyance with the situation finally faded away.

When she seemed to have calmed down, Arya ended the kiss and followed it up with one on the other woman’s forehead, smiling sheepishly as she did so.

“Don’t worry about it, dearest, it is very hard to sneak up on people in the snow. Perhaps if you have some time I’ll teach you later.”

Daenerys smiled at the sudden sweetness of her lover, but after a few moments she shook her head.

“No, little wolf, although I would love to move as quietly as you do, I think it is time for us to leave for King’s Landing. These past few weeks in Winterfell were wonderful, and much needed after the battle, but Tyrion has been sending me more ravens in the past few days than he had in the weeks before that.”

Arya looked surprised for a moment, but then nodded, looking down dejectedly.  The Queen didn’t notice, though, and went on.

“I have notified the Unsullied already to prepare for departure, and I have asked Jon and Sansa if they could spare us some supplies for the road. They should have everything ready by tomorrow, or the day after at the latest. Missandei has begun packing our stuff, but if you have something special you want to take with you it might be best if you take some time to pack it up yourself, as I’m-“

Daenerys continued talking, but Arya only heard a buzzing sound in her ears after those words.

She stared for a few moments, until her body finally caught up with her mind and she exclaimed: “Wait! Our stuff is also… my stuff?”

At her words, the older woman suddenly paused, a puzzled look on her face.

“Erm… w- Well, yes, of course…” Daenerys said, frowning. “I thought… I mean, I suppose I just assumed…”

She was mumbling a bit, and when Arya didn’t seem to dare to finish her sentence she recomposed herself and continued.

“I’m sorry, Arya, I hadn’t thought to officially ask you, I just assumed that… you would want to come with me, back to King’s Landing…”

Daenerys looked at her lover and saw a rollercoaster of emotion wash over her face: a happy half-grin, followed by a frown, followed by a serious and defeated look.

“Was I… Was I wrong to assume, Arya…?”

The younger woman shook her head slowly, looking down before she finally looked up, her grey eyes serious.

“It’s not that, Daenerys, I just….” she sighed, barely believing what she was about to say, but feeling the need to say it regardless. “To be honest, I just thought that you might not really want me to come back with you… Not that I don’t think you love me!” She quickly added before the other woman could interrupt her, “I know you do, as I love you,… But when you go back it is to finally be able to rule as the Queen of Westeros. And a Queen needs a King, and since Jon is the only Targaryen left it would make sense-“

A warm finger on her lips stopped her, and Arya looked up to see a perfectly arched eyebrow and amused violet eyes staring back at her.

“Arya… Do you want me to marry your brother?”

“Well… No, but…”

“Do you think your brother and I would be good together? Do you think we could ever love each other?”

Arya did her best not to look disgusted at the thought, but she couldn’t help it, the idea was just… too weird.

“No, of course not, but I just thought it would be the most… Queen-like thing to do?”

Daenerys’ amusement broke through in a smile now, and she continued: “And do you think it’s something I would ever do?”

The younger woman rolled her eyes now, a blush creeping on her face as she sighed. “Fine, no you would never marry Jon for any kind of reason and I was a fool to bring it up. Happy?”

The Queen laughed at her and leaned in to kiss the annoyed look off her lover’s face, when she suddenly realized that she never got her answer.

“Not yet, actually,” she said, gently grabbing the girl’s face with both hands as her eyes locked with the dark grey ones. “You haven’t answered my question. Arya Stark: will you come with me to King’s Landing?”

Arya looked down for a second, a large smile growing on her face.

When she looked back up, her eyes were filled with love as she once more leaned in to kiss Daenerys.

* * *

 

The courtyard was crowded once more, filled with people preparing to leave.

It was a double feeling for Arya as she looked around her: on the one hand, she was to leave this place.

Winterfell had been her home for so long, and a place she had longed for more than she could say.

But on the other hand, though, she was also excited.

With her horse packed and ready to go, she bent down for a moment to pet Nymeria as she looked around the familiar castle grounds.

It pained her to leave the castle, the direwolf banners on the walls, the forest and Weirwood around them, even the snows.

But then her gaze flicked over silver hairs and a light blue cloak somewhere to her right, and she knew that wherever she was going, she was going home.

“All ready to go, Ar?”

Arya looked up to see her siblings had joined her and smiled as she stood up.

“I am, yeah, and I think they are too.” she looked over her shoulder at the Queen behind them.

Her lover was talking with Grey Worm, and from the way he was nodding the younger woman could tell everything was set.

She saw Sansa nod at her words, a sad smile on her face as they locked eyes. “I was afraid you were going to say that…”

Arya smiled at her three siblings, seeing the sad look mirrored on all three faces.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be gone forever! We’re riding on horseback now because of the Unsullied, and Nymeria, of course,” she added, looking fondly at her friend, “but once we’re in King’s Landing I can always come visit you with one of the dragons! I’ll be back here in no time, you’ll see.”

Jon smiled, shaking his head. “We know, and I’m glad about that, but still… We’ll miss you, little sister.”

He quickly stepped forward and hugged her, and despite her own words Arya hugged back just as tightly.

When they let go, Jon didn’t step back but suddenly adjusted her cloak. After he finished Arya looked down to see that he had given her a broach with the sigil of the direwolf.

She looked up to see him smile. “So you’ll never forget us.”

Arya shook her head, tears in her eyes as she hugged him again.

“Thank you, brother…” she said, emotion heavy on her voice. “But you know forgetting you is impossible.”

“We know,” Bran suddenly interrupted, a smile on his face, “but we figured we’d make sure. You know, if Nymeria isn’t enough to remind you.”

Hearing her name, the wolf went up to lick the young man’s hand, and when she moved aside Arya quickly stepped in as well to hug him.

“I’ll miss you brother…” She let go, looking at him questioningly. “Do you think you’ll be able to follow me all the way in King’s Landing?”

Bran tilted his head pensively. “At my current abilities not really, but by the time you get there, who knows…”

He smiled and gave her one of his mysterious looks again; a look that had once annoyed her but she was now sure she would miss.

Arya shook her head and turned to the last person. When she saw the sad smile on Sansa’s face she didn’t pause, but immediately went in for a hug.

“I’ll miss you sister…” she said softly, closing her eyes as she held the taller woman close.

“I’ll miss you too, Arya… so much…”

She could hear her sister’s voice crack and was barely able to hold it together, but she put a smile on her face as she let go. “Don’t worry, San, you’ll see me again soon enough.”

Sansa began to nod dejectedly, tears visible in her eyes, but her sad smile suddenly turned mischievous when she saw that Daenerys was walking over to them.

“Oh yes, I suppose we will see you soon.” The redhead said, her eyes sparkling. “Your wedding won’t be too far away, will it, Ar?”

The look of shock on Arya’s face was priceless.

“Wh- my w- My what?!” the former assassin exclaimed, much to both Sansa’s and her brothers’ amusement.

“Your wedding,” Sansa deadpanned, ignoring the panicked look on her sister’s face as she continued. “Unless we aren’t invited, Ar…?”

Arya’s lips were moving but no sound came out. She was turning bright-red, and her grey, incredulous eyes switched between Sansa, Bran and Jon, who all had the same barely-contained look of amusement on their faces.

“Of course you are,” Daenerys suddenly appeared next to the still frozen Arya, smiling as she put her arm around the younger woman’s waist. “Don’t worry, we’ll send you a raven once we’ve set a date, right my love?”

Arya turned to her, her grey eyes filled with disbelief, but the silver-haired woman simply smiled and kissed her softly on the increasingly reddening cheek.

The three other Starks looked surprised at the Queen’s words as well, but they quickly caught themselves and grinned.

“Well, that’s settled, then.” Jon said, nodding at the two women in front of him, an amusement visible in his eyes as he walked forward to say goodbye to Daenerys as well. “We’ll be looking forward to it.”

The silver haired woman smiled as she said her goodbyes to Jon and Bran. Her smile fell, though, when she saw the sad look on Sansa’s face as she came to hug her.

“I’ll miss you, Daenerys…” The taller woman said, sighing. “Take good care of each other.”

Daenerys hugged her a bit tighter at those words. When they let go, she smiled and nodded, grabbing Arya’s hand.

“We will…” She said, looking at her lovingly.

Arya was shocked out of her earlier stupor by the touch, but when their words finally made it to her brain she smiled softly as well.

“Yes, we will… Always.”

After that, they said their final goodbyes, mounted their horses and passed through the gates of Winterfell, on the road back to the South.

On the road home.

* * *

 

**EPILOGUE**

Daenerys looked out across the city, reveling in the crisp summer breeze that flowed through the window.

It had been a long morning of audiences, and even though the Iron Throne was not as uncomfortable as it looked, it was nice to be out of it for a moment.

She closed her eyes as she enjoyed the fresh air, certain she could smell the sea on it.

Suddenly, she could feel hands on her waist and a body pressing up behind her, and although the movement still surprised her, she quickly melted into it.

“You’re back early,” she said, enjoying the strong arms that encircled her for a moment longer before turning around and greeting her lover.

Arya was wearing her grey armour, as she usually did, with the dragon embedded on the front, as well as the now worn-out direwolf broach that always adorned it. Her hair was half up, but some locks had clearly escaped because of the wind.

“I am,” the former assassin nodded, a soft smile on her face as she gave her lover a short kiss, “Patrol went easy today, and I visited the guard posts to make sure they all know what to do when we’re gone.”

Daenerys chuckled. “Patrol, huh? I didn’t know patrolling required you to fly loops with Rhaegal over the city?”

A slight blush crept on Arya’s face, and she smiled sheepishly. “You saw that, huh? I thought you had a busy morning?”

The older woman laughed at the adorable look on the young wolf’s face, wrapped her arms around her head and pulled her closer. “I’ll always make time for you…”

As their lips met, the moment was suddenly interrupted by a voice behind them.

“If I may be so frank, I believe the colloquial phrase in this kind of situation is ‘get a room’.”

The two pulled away, and both Arya and Daenerys rolled their eyes as they watched Tyrion approaching them, followed closely by an amused Missandei.

“Maybe so,” the Queen said, moving to her advisors with a smile, “but I believe the royal answer to that would be: ‘this is my castle.’ And we’ll do whatever we please in it.”

“Well,” Tyrion spoke after a short pause, the look of surprise at her clear answer switching over into amusement, “I do suppose there’s no arguing that, Your Grace.”

“No arguing? That’s the first time I ever heard you say that, Tyrion.” Arya grinned wolfishly as she and Daenerys joined the two and began walking out of the throne room.

Before the Imp and the Wolf could get into another one of their heated – though amiable –discussions, Missandei quickly interjected.

“Everything is packed up for you both, Your Grace. The servants have made sure to pack enough warm clothing, as well as the presents you had requested for your niece, Arya.”

“Great,” Arya said, smiling at her friend, “I’m sure she’ll be stoked to be getting something other than the books she usually gets. Thanks, Missandei.”

Tyrion scoffed. “Yes, I’d heard you were getting her a practice sword, among others, Arya. Isn’t that a bit odd for a girl? How old is the princess now?”

“Nine,” Arya answered, “and don’t let Jon hear you say that. He hates it when people call his daughter a ‘princess’.”

At that, the dwarf rolled his eyes. “Well she _is_ the heir to the throne, whether he likes it or not. And you didn’t answer my question, Arya. Maybe Jon is okay with it, but I doubt that her mother likes it that her nine year-old girl is getting weapons for her birthday instead of dolls.”

Arya simply rolled her eyes at that and walked faster when she saw Grey Worm standing outside at the gates, quickly joined by Missandei as well.

Tyrion looked annoyed at this, and simply decided it was not worth to try and catch up with the two.

“Don’t worry about it, Lord Tyrion.” Daenerys said, smiling at her lover as she walked in front of her. “Arya’s niece is a lot like her when she was younger, and from what I’ve heard she’s only become more of a tomboy since I last saw her.”

“Hmm…” Her advisor seemed to think about that. “Last time I saw her it was at your wedding, and at that time she couldn’t have been more than three years old. She had mostly Stark elements in her at that time, I suppose, but still.”

Daenerys chuckled. “Trust me, Tyrion, when we went there for her eighth birthday last year she was already swinging sticks around even before Arya had given her any presents. It just… suit her more.”

Tyrion sighed. “Another one more Stark than studious, huh?”

“Barely!” They had caught up with the three others now, who were waiting for them by the dragons.

Grey Worm had Nymeria at his side, and Arya was saying goodbye to her for now as they couldn’t take them along on Drogon, but she had still caught the end of Tyrion’s sentence.

When she saw him arch his eyebrow, Arya stood up and explained. “Last time I was there we were sparring, and when the Maester came along to tell her it was time to study she actually _wanted_ to go! She even tried to get me to come with her! To _study_!”

The look of complete disbelief on the Stark’s face was enough to make Daenerys chuckle again.

She stepped up to the younger woman and grabbed her hand.

“Perhaps she will have changed since then, my love. Shall we go and find out?”

Arya nodded with a smile and caressed her lover’s hand softly.

“Lead the way, my Queen.”

They both walked over to the waiting dragons and mounted Drogon.

After a quick goodbye – after all, their time away wouldn’t be long – the black dragon swiftly took, immediately followed by the two others.

Daenerys let out a happy sigh as she held on to the warm woman in front of her.

The two queens flew over King’s Landing in no time, glad to see the city bustling with people.

They saw the Unsullied on guard, the Dothraki settlements outside the city, a once more busy King’s Road filled with merchants, and peaceful villages all the way North.

All was well in their Westeros.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it, it's finally finished!  
> I'm sorry about the wait on this final chapter: I had to restart it several times, writing happy times is a lot harder than writing angst and cliffhangers... So I know the ending is not very well written, and might leave some questions, but it is the ending I had in mind from the start.  
> I do hope you enjoyed the story, I definitely enjoyed writing it and especially reading your comments after a good chapter.  
> So thank you all for reading, kudo-ing and commenting, and sticking with me to the end!
> 
> Kindly - D


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